


Sundries in the X-Files Universe

by Humphreywrites



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Tumblr drabbles, asked and answered, prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:26:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 26,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24589051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Humphreywrites/pseuds/Humphreywrites
Summary: An array of mini stories, most spurned from tumblr prompts.
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 2
Kudos: 54





	1. The Lies She Told Herself

Maybe it was easier this way. Emotional vulnerability could be used as weakness to further an agenda. To separate them. To shut them down, permanently.

It was the lie she told herself in the beginning.

Sex was a biological imperative. She was an expert at separating her emotions. She’d been taught in medical school to wear a mask. Advice that had served her well, in both professions.

Sex with Mulder was a stress relief.

Another lie she told herself.

The first time it happened, she told herself it was a one time thing. It was a line they should not have crossed, and yet, they’ve been crossing it for almost the entire duration of their partnership.

His apartment. Her apartment. A random motel room in a nondescript town. In a rental car. In the office. God, so many places she was beginning to loose count. It was never off limits. Ever. They each had their tells. She’d look at him a certain way, or he’d quirk a grin and it was just an inevitability. It wasn’t a matter of if, it was a matter of when.

They never talked about it... it just was. A thing that existed between the two of them, that only made their partnership stronger.

He was her best friend, she didn’t want to ruin their partnership with a relationship. Neither did he. She knew he loved her, but he wasn’t in love with her, and she respected that... another lie she told herself.

Instead, they just had mind-blowing sex. That, she knew was worth it.

“Mulder.”

He was between her thighs. He wasn’t listening. He was too busy making her feel something akin to Nirvana.

It was a Friday, they didn’t have a case and he had no reason to be there but he was. He’d come over with a case of beer and an armload of videos, but somehow, she found herself with her head tilted against the back of her couch and her hips gyrating against his tongue. Never again would she complain about his sunflower seed habit. His oral fixation was her undoing.

“Mulder,” she tried again, but it was useless. She was close, and when she grabbed his hair, and pulled his head up, he frowned, “Not enjoying yourself?”

For fuck sake, he knew the answer to that. She cupped her hand against his hardness, “I was thinking more about mutual satisfaction.”

“I like how you think,” he said, as he took off his pants.

“Your not wearing boxers,” she quipped, drinking him in. “You thought you were going to get lucky.”

“Nah, I only hoped,” he smirked, rising her skirt up a little more, poised to enter. He knew she liked this position. Most of the time, he ended up with half moon circles on his arms, as a reminder of how much she liked it. Sometimes she even left red scratch marks down his back, which he would revel in until they disappeared.

He came fast, and she followed soon. Once they were both satiated, he got off her and redressed. Sliding her skirt back down, she took a breath. “I’m going to change, if you want to put a movie in.”

An invitation to stay after sex, wasn’t usual, but he nodded and made himself comfortable.

After cleaning herself up, she threw on a long t-shirt and clean underwear forgoing pants. She had a feeling they were going to be doing that again.

When she came out, wearing only his t-shirt, he almost spit beer out of his mouth. It was his Knicks shirt, the one he thought he’d lost only to find it covering her lithe petite body, hitting just above her knees. It looked far better on her.

She didn’t comment on his reaction, but headed into the kitchen to grab a beer. “Should we order food?”

He nods, momentarily speechless. “I take that as a yes?”

She was uncharacteristically flirtatious, and he wasn’t complaining.

Dr. Dana Katherine Scully, Special Agent, and Cocktease.

The last one was his favorite title something she reserved only for him. She uncaps a bottle, and comes over with menus in her hands. The television is playing the opening credits of Caddy Shack, and she groans. He ignores it and touches the hem of the shirt, his fingers grazing her leg. “This is mine.”

“Oh, it is?” She’s teasing, and all he can do is stare at her lips.

“You know that’s mine,” he says, “but by all means, it looks far better on you.”

“I like it,” she says, looking down at herself, “it’s comfortable.” And it smells like you. “But if you want it back, I can take it off now.”

“Scully—“ he’s about to protest but its too late, and she’s already slung it over her head. She’s only in her pink lace panties and his cock is already hardening at the sight of her.

It pools on the floor, and she isn’t afraid to be naked in front of him. This time, it feels different. “You were saying?”

“You are so beautiful.”

His words take her by surprise. His eyes are only on her eyes. It renders her speechless. “You’ve always been beautiful but Scully, you are absolute vision.”

She feels the heat rising in her face. She was just being playful and flirty, but this is deeper than that. “Come here,” he says, and reaches out for her hand. “I love your hands. They can wield a scalpel, shoot a gun, and when you put your fingers through my hair, I feel incredibly safe.”

He pauses, and traces his hands up her arms. “I love your arms. How strong they are. How much you can carry. How many times you’ve pulled me out of some kind of situation I’ve managed to get us into.”

He stands up, and his hands travel up her neck and hover over where her chip is. “I hate this scar.” But then he kisses her neck right under her jaw, a place he is intimately familiar with, and she’s close to tears. “But I love this spot.”

His hands find her cheeks, and his eyes find hers, “I love your eyes. I love how they look when your proving me wrong, when you cry, when you smile...”

He kisses her lips, “And these,” he kisses her again, “I love too.” He touches her upper right freckle, the beauty mark she tries so hard to cover, and rubs off the makeup. “I love this. For god sake, Dana do you have any idea what you do to me on a regular basis? As much as I can believe we’re okay with this arrangement, I’m not. Not anymore.”

He pulls away, and grabs the t-shirt off the floor. He pulls it over her head, and redresses her, kissing her soundly on the mouth. “I’m in love with you, and I know you, so that means your going to have to process this. Rationalize it. Look for evidence. But I’m standing in front of you, and I’m not going anywhere.”

He picks up his coat off the back of her couch. “I needed to say it, and when your ready we will talk about it.”

And with that, he left her wondering what the fuck just happened.

:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:

She doesn’t talk to him for the entire weekend. It’s her MO, and she’s the queen of avoidance. She kept herself busy by cleaning her apartment until her appliances literally sparkles, and re-read breakfast at Tiffany’s while crying into a carton of ice cream. She had no idea what to do.

On one hand, over the course of their partnership proven to her time and time again that he loved her. But as she wracked her brain for instances where he could have been in love with her she found herself remembering small moments. Gestures. Looks. The Neanderthal protectiveness. When he’d wiped her cheek in a BBQ in Wisconsin. When he stayed with her after Pfaster, and slept in her bed just holding her.

Then the big moments: when she had cancer. When he went to Antarctica for her or San Diego to testify that she should be a mother. When she asked him to help her have a baby, because there was no one better than him. Every single time one of them ended up in the hospital. Seven long years of moments, that she’d thought were just that of friends.

The realization hit her like a ton of bricks: he’d been in love since the beginning.

Instead of talking it out, she went for a run. She ran until her knees buckled and she had to walk back to her apartment. Sweaty, gross and full of adrenaline she grabbed her car keys and got in her car, making the forty five minute drive to his apartment, looking like an absolute mess.

They have the day off, it’s a federal holiday and she wonders if he’s even home.

She could have used her key, but instead knocks.

He answers the door, with a look of surprise and let’s her in.

She doesn’t say anything, walks past him standing in front of his television stand about to pace a hole through the rug. “I’ve been thinking,” she begins, running her fingers through her hair, “about Friday.”

He’s silent just watching her, and it’s absolutely maddening. Fox Mulder rarely if ever runs out of things to say. She’s prepared to list all the reasons why getting into a relationship is a terrible fucking idea when she crossed the room, emboldened by her own desire and kisses him.

He reciprocates and when she pulls away she tells him. “I love you too.”

He grins, like a kid on Christmas, and she can’t help but smile. “I know that wasn’t easy for you to say.”

“It’ll get easier the more I do,” she laughs, “I love you.”

He kisses her, and she feels the air get sucked out of her lungs. It’s a different kind of feeling, one that she wants to hold onto and never let go. “I don’t think I’ll ever stop saying that.”

“Good,” he says, “it took us long enough to get here.”

“I think it would have happened eventually.”

“I don’t know, your particular stubborn.”

“Me?” She shakes her head, “I think we can agree we’re both stubborn.”

“So, what do we do next?”

“Can I shower? I’m kind of gross.”

“Post-run Scully is kind of adorable.”

“I might need some help washing my hair,” she continues, leading him towards his bathroom.

“I think I can help you out with that...”


	2. Realizations and Vulnerability

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scully admits her feelings...

She was in love with him, and the truth hurt more than she cared to admit. Fear crept in and the onslaught of emotions that followed left her weary. She was tired, so tired, of holding it in. Pretending that she was okay with the unspoken arrangement. In actuality, she missed the intimacy of someone sharing the mundane parts of life: sharing a toothbrush, cooking really bad Mac and cheese, and of course, just sleeping together platonically.

Fucking, well, that was easy. Too easy. They were good at that. Good at getting lost in the moment. She’s an expert of riding the wave of inevitable euphoria before crashing back down to earth. The way he made her feel was pure ecstasy- a kind of high she never knew existed. He was a drug, and she was an addict.

...and that was her biggest secret.

She’d had one night stands, but with him it had been four years of a slow seduction. Years of foreplay, without even knowing it at the time.

“I can’t do this anymore,” she said, with her eyes brimming with tears, ready to cascade down her face. “I just can’t.”

“Dana...” The way he says her given name with such reverence catches her off guard. He cups her cheek with his hands, “stop running from me.”

It’s late, and she shouldn’t have been there. It was a weeknight, and per their unspoken rules weeknights were off limits. It’s out of character for her to be like this, impulsive and at his doorstep but she feels heavy. She feels like if she doesn’t make a clean break, she’d be only digging herself in deeper. It’s as if he sees her soul. His piercing eye contact sucks all the oxygen out of her lungs, and she’s rendered speechless. “It’s just me.”

Therein lies the problem. It’s never been just you, Mulder. “This isn’t working. I can’t seem to separate what I feel, from what we’re doing and it’s...”

She’s tipsy, boarding on drunk, and she wonders if he feels the same. The glass of liquid courage has dissipated, and her sobriety sets in. “I shouldn’t be here.”

She makes a move to leave but his hand on her arm stops her. “Don’t go.”

“I’m not sleeping with you,” she cuts in, with a fire in her eyes.

He shakes his head, “That’s not what I meant. Let me call you a cab. We can talk in the morning.”

The dawn of a new day, she thinks and allows him to lead her into his apartment.  
:.:.::.:.:.:.:.:,

When she wakes up alone- on his couch covered in a blanket and fully clothed- her confession replays in her mind on an endless loop.

She’s self conscious after leaving it all out there. She is so wrapped up in her head that she doesn’t hear him come in. He’s in running clothes, and begins to putter about in the kitchen, when she sits up and looks at him. His back is toward her, and she can see his well defined arm muscles as he reaches for a glass. Curling her knees to her chest, he sets it on the counter and quirks a grin. “Good morning.”

He’s greeted her a million and one times, but there’s something different about this one. “Hey,” she says, with a yawn.

“Coffee or tea?”

She knows he has a stash of her favorite teas. “Tea,” she answers, as he sets the kettle to boil. Suddenly she feels awkward, which makes no sense, considering they’ve shared more than just a cup of coffee or tea.

“Scully?”

Her inner diatribe stops. “Hmmm?”

He looks at her and hands her a mug, “Are you okay?”

No, I’m not fucking okay. I’m a wreck, Mulder. “I’m...” she pauses. The phrase, ‘I’m fine’ is on the tip of her tongue. Instead of swallowing the fear, she leans into it, “I’m not okay. I can’t do whatever it is we are doing because I’m...” she stops. I’m in love with you. She is suddenly hit with the realization that she is, in fact, in love with Fox Mulder, and it scares her to be so emotionally vulnerable. She is about to lay her soul bare when the tea kettle goes off.

He shuts down the burner, and stares at her. Wordless communication is their forte. They excel at fucking and not talking. “I don’t want to do it either.” He looks at her, and her heart breaks into a million pieces until he continues to speak, “Because Dana Scully, I’m in love with you.”

What? She needs to hear it again. “You love me?” She chokes out hoarsely.

“Of course,” he says easily as if he hasn’t just changed the rules of their relationship. “I am in love with you.”

Dumbstruck and rendered mute it takes a minute for her to process. He just smiles, as he hands her a mug of steaming tea and surprises her by kissing her gently on the lips. It’s a kiss full of promises, as if he’s going to do it every day for the rest of their lives.

When he pulls back, she’s smiling widely. “So, does that mean your going to continue to kiss me like that?”

“That depends...”

She furrows a brow, “On what?”

“If you’ll let me.”


	3. Making the Unremarkable Remarkable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life with a baby on the lamb is nothing but a challenge.

Life with a baby on the lamb is nothing but a challenge. The endless running is wearing on her and Mulder. Will, however, is just as happy as calm. It’s his normal, and she’s begun to wonder how much therapy he’s going to need as a teenager.

In the past month, Will has seen South Dakota, Minnesota, Wisconsin, Illinois, Indiana, and Pennsylvania, all from his car seat, mostly. They’re heading into dangerous territory. The proximity to DC, even miles away is making her anxious.

“Mulder, is there any particular reason we’re in Pennsylvania?” She whispers, carefully. The sounds of 70′s music fill the car, and he hums along way too relaxed for a fugitive.

“We are going to meet your mother.”

“I’m sorry, what?” She gasps. Of all the things, he could have told her, this one was not even on her list of possibilities. “My mother?”

“You know, Maggie Scully, the woman who birthed you.” He pauses, trying to read her expression. He can see the underlying pain in her eyes. “It’s just our last conversation was about William...” Hurtful words were thrown at her for her decision, and she hadn’t spoken to her mother since. Her mother accused her of being selfish and heartless. “It didn’t go well,” she grimaces, looking out the window. Understatement of the year, she thinks.

He is silent, processing, as the music changes on the radio. “We can not go,” he finally says. “It’s up to you. I just thought because it’s been so hard lately, seeing a familiar face would help.”

He’d gone through great lengths to set this up for her, and he definitely never anticipated this reaction. “We can go,” she finally says. “Besides, she’ll be excited to see Will.”

They get to the destination two hours later. It’s a small coffee shop, and as soon as they’re out of the car, she sees her mother in the window. Her mothers mouth is open, and suddenly tears are streaming down her cheeks before they are even inside. He wordlessly grasps her free hand, as she balances Will on her hip.

Thankfully, the shop is empty, as her mother is reduced to a puddle of tears pulling her and Will into a hug. “My god,” she finally says pulling away, “you’re really here. All of you,” she continues as she looks at Mulder. She touches her newly dyed brown locks. It was safer, she had said, when she’d come out of the bathroom with her hair dripping wet and no longer Titian.

“Can I hold him?”

“Of course,” she says, handing him over. He smiles, and pulls at her mothers hair. “He’s grabby,” she warns, a little too late. “It’s fine, Dana, really.” Will tucks his head under her chin, as Maggie leads them to a table in the back. “I’ll go get us coffees,” Mulder offers and looks at Maggie. “Maggie?”

“A earl grey please.”

He nods and looks at Scully, “The usual?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

He leaves with a grin, and an encouraging nod. He has an annoying habit of just knowing what she’s thinking. The baby is a pacifier between them, a kind of tentative olive branch, but she still feels anxious.

“Dana, I know the last time we spoke... I said some things, and I regret them.”

She doesn’t say anything, as her mother looks at her. “And then you left and it’s been four months of no communication, which I completely understand but...”

“Mom, I’m sorry too,” she cuts in. “You had a point, some of the things you said were true. But you have to understand this, I gave him up to protect him. Maybe it was hasty but he’d just been kidnapped by a psycho cult, I wasn’t able to keep him safe and...”

“I understand, Dana.”

That’s all she needed to hear, and the anxieties floated away. Will reaches out to her, and Maggie hands him over, reluctantly. With Will settled, Mulder is finally back with the drinks. He hands them off, and sits next to her. “This was a nice surprise,” Maggie begins, “especially seeing the three of you together. Oh, and your old boss, Special Agent Skinner, called me the other day. He wanted me to pass along a message that they were no longer actively searching for you, either if you and that Dana was in no danger.”

“Skinner said this?” Mulder says, in disbelief. Maggie nods and he looks at her, “You two can have a normal life.”

Is he serious? “Mulder, no.”

“Scully, think about it...”

“I’m not even going to let you finish that sentence. There’s no me without you,” She says resolutely. “I’m not going to raise Will alone.”

“What if you didn’t have to...” Maggie cut in. “What if, you could settle somewhere where safe?”

Her attention has been caught. “There’s a house out in Farrs Corner, Virginia. One of my friends from Church inherited it and has been trying to sell it but it’s remote... and in need of some TLC.”

Her head was spinning. “Scully, maybe it’s time to get out of the car.” He was right, of course. Hearing her own words echoed back at her left her smiling. “I remember saying that once to you.”

“Five years ago, Rachel, Nevada,” he points out, flexing his idiomatic memory. “Should have listened to you then.”

“There’s no time limits on telling me I was right,” she quips and looks at her mother. “Is there anyway we can see the house?”

Two weeks later, with the help of Maggie Scully, they are officially homeowners. Well, she is, technically.

The house itself is unremarkable, with a steel gate at its entrance. There is over and acre of property, and he’s already thinking of swing sets and a treehouse. There are so many things that need to get done, and since they’ve got nothing but time he’s committed to all and every DIY project.

They’ve managed to get some things from her mother, that she had saved from her apartment, but the sparse furniture already feels homier than the many motel rooms.

She is standing in her sons room, and can’t help but watch him sleep. He’s so peaceful. She feels his arms snake around her, and he puts his head on her shoulder. “He’s out.”

“Like a light.”

“You know,” he begins, “we still haven’t had a chance to christen the couch yet.”

“No, we haven’t,” she agrees, knowing already where he’s going with that. “And I’m not completely opposed to that idea.”

“You’re not opposed,” he repeats, in a whisper. “Let’s just hope he stays asleep.”

Thankfully, he does.


	4. Busted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: How about Mulder buying baby toys clothes etc. for Scully because he just can’t help himself. And the looses his nerve and tries to hide them in his apartment bedroom and Scully finding them while she came over.

“Mulder, what is this?”

She’s found it. Busted. In one hand is a onesie with tiny cartoon aliens and in the other is a soft toy Fox. There’s a small smile, tugging at her lips, as he sheepishly grins.

“Baby things, Scully.” She rolls her eyes. “I know, Mulder, but you’ve hid them in your bedroom... like this is some kind of contraband.”

“At least you didn’t find the porn,” he teases, and she laughs. He’d gotten rid of his stash a year ago, there was no need for it considering he finally has the real thing. “What exactly were you looking for in there?”

“A sweatshirt,” she says, and tries to cross her arms, but the swell of her belly gets in the way. “I was cold.”

“Yeah, I called the super about that yesterday. Come over here, let me warm you up then.”

She ignores his advances, and continues to wonder why he’d felt the need to hide this. It was sweet, thoughtful and ridiculously Mulder. “When did you get these?”

He looks at her, and decides to tell her the truth. “I’ve had them for a while, actually. I picked up the onesie the day you found out the IVF didn’t take. I just thought that...” he trails off, and she tears up. “I never got rid of it, and it’s a good thing I didn’t.”

It’s the damn hormones, and before she knows it, he’s invading her personal space. His arms are around her as and they are as close as her belly allows. “I told you, Scully, don’t give up on a miracle.”


	5. Interesting Turn of Events

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Scully getting shot instead of Diana.

It should have been Diana. Instead, it was his Scully in the hospital with a gunshot wound to the shoulder. A through and through. A clean shot, non-fatal, with a .32 caliber bullet now bagged for evidence and probably on its way to ballistics by now.

He knows there will be no evidence of the shooter. There will be no way to connect this to the labyrinth of conspiracies, to the dark underbelly of the government, and it feels like the biggest injustice of it all.

I could have lost you again, Scully.  
How many times had they done this? How many hallowed hospital halls have they walked because of the nature of their job? Odds are stacked against them that one of them is going seriously injured or end up dead in the line of duty. He tries to push that thought away, but it settles in his mind like an unwelcomed guest.

He sees her from the hallway. She’s sleeping, and her eyes are closed, most likely from the drugs they’ve given her to ease the pain. If only emotional pain could be numbed that easily, he thinks, slinking into her hospital room.

He looks at the machines, tangible evidence that her heart is beating, and then to her. Her chest rises and falls, in tandem with the peaks and valleys on the heart monitor. She’s breathing.

She’s alive.

It was just another close call.

Another close call.  
She stirs, and blinks her eyes open. “Mulder?” She croaks, her voice is hoarse. Memories of what transpired floods her mind as he looks at her. “Gibson…”

“Missing,” he says, wearily. “There’s been a task force assigned to find him.”

Her eyes drop. “I failed then,” she says quietly. “I wasn’t able to do my job.”

Only Scully would call herself a failure after taking a bullet, he thinks shaking his head.

“You got shot trying to protect him, Scully, I wouldn’t call it a failure.”

“Well, I did a terrible job of it.”

He sighs, he knows there’s nothing he can say that will convince her otherwise. “How are you feeling?” He asks changing the subject, even though he knows she hates the question.

“I’ll be fine,” she says, giving him an she knows he hates. It’s a game. Well, fuck it, he thinks: Game. Set. Match.

They fall into an uncomfortable silence. There’s so much between them, so much left unsaid that he can’t stand it anymore. All his emotions are coming to the surface and he can’t take it any longer. “You could have died, Scully! You don’t have to be fucking fine. The entire ride here, I kept thinking you were dead because no one knew anything. No one told me anything! And if I lost you… I don’t know what I’d do. Damn it, I love you. I try not to, and I know your probably thinking that I’m crazy—“

“I don’t,” she interrupts. “I don’t think your crazy.”

Her mind is trying to process. He just said he loves her. Three words that have also been rolling around in her brain for a while now. He takes a breath, and bridges the gap between them. He’s hesitant to take her hand, but her fingers are warm, willing and pliable as he threads his through hers.

She gives him a look, one filled of adoration and love that he knows she feels it too. The thing between them, that they have yet to give name to. It was all so new… since Antarctica. Since the fucking bee.

He’d gone to the ends of the earth for her. She knew he loved her. They’d slept together after they’d gotten back to DC, and it had only cemented her feelings for him. Feelings she was afraid to admit to herself. Sex, she could rationalize. Love, well that was harder to explain. But she could feel it.

“Your not crazy, because I love you too.” His mouth drops. That was the last thing he expected to hear. “And Mulder, I am tired of not trying to love you because it’s been exhausting and time consuming and…”

He silences her with a kiss. It’s gentle at first, until she deepens it. A kiss that should have happened in the hallway that day. She finally pulls away, and looks at him. His eyes are warm, and she feels lighter now that everything has been said. It’s going to be okay. She can feel it.


	6. If Oaks Could Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: A secret rendezvous At Midnight by an old oak tree can be au but it's up to you.  
> It went AU, for sure. MSR is established in high school. Also, smut, a lot of it.

“Fox, where are we going?” It was late, close to midnight, and they really should go relieve the babysitter. Her question is answered, as soon as he pulls into the parking lot. Her eyes widen, “The park?”

He smirks, “Come on, care to go relive some of your rebellious youth?”

“Alright old man, lets see if you still got it in you,” she teases, as he shuts off the car engine.

“Now, there’s the sixteen year old Dana Scully I remember,” he quips, as she takes him by the hand and leads him down down the path. “We both know what these Oak trees would say if they could talk,” she adds laughing.

“That two horny teenagers got off against one? If I remember correctly, my ass hurt for a couple of days.”

“I’ve given birth three times,” she counters. “A little ass pain is nothing compared to that.”

“Oh, I get the feeling these Oaks are going to get another show.”

“Only if you can keep up,” she grins, pinning him against the tree. He leans down and kisses her. Her hands are roaming down his body, and she gets to his belt buckle. She stops, “Not going to put up a fight this time, Fox?”

“I know you too well for that,” he says, as she unbuckles it. “We’ve got twenty years of history between us.”

“Well, now your making me feel old. That’s not helping your case to get laid tonight, Fox Mulder, which would be a shame because you only turn thirty eight once.” She begins to unbutton his shirt, taking her time, and runs her fingers down his chest. He has aged like a fine wine. “Dana...” he says grabbing her wrist. “You always were tease.”

He’s hard, she can feel it against the fabric of her dress. She leans up and whispers in his ear, “I am not wearing any panties under this.”

He groans. Of course she wasn’t. He knew that she was braless. There was no way she was wearing anything under that dress, because it was backless and now it was confirmed.

He takes his hand and rubs it up her thigh. She’s already wet. Jesus Christ. Her eyes are full of lust and desire. “Come on Fox, fuck me.”

Soon his pants are bunched on his ankles and she’s riding him like no tomorrow. Her screams are primal, as her nails dig into his back while riding her orgasm. He follows just as she finishes.

They’re both sweaty and tired. “Well...” she begins, “what do you think these trees would say now?”

“They’d say we still got it,” he quips, with a smug ‘I just got laid’ smile.

“You’re incorrigible, Fox.”

“You still married me” he points out.

“I must have been delusional.”

“No, just pregnant.”

“It’s been thirteen years of marital bliss since...”she jokes, as he takes her hand in his. “How’s your ass?”

“Oh, it’s going to be sore.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll get you some ice when we get home...” she smirks, as they head back to the car. Back to reality, she thinks, wondering not for the first time, where the time had gone.

:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:

_“Dana, it’s late, and we really shouldn’t be doing this…”_

_She didn’t care. If anything, it only made it better. At sixteen, she was completely in love with Fox Mulder and all she wanted to do right now was prove it. “Fox, it’s barely midnight, so technically it’s early, not late.”_

_“Dana,” he moans as her mouth sucks on his neck. “Your dad would kill me.”_

_“Good thing he’s not here then,” she quips, taking her mouth off his neck and smiling. “We’re as young as we’re ever going to be in the moment and I intend on making the most of it. So please, shut up and just kiss me.”_

_They’d been dating since her Freshmen year, when he was a Senior bound for Oxford. Her parents obviously didn’t approve, and she wasn’t allowed to date but it didn’t stop them. She had fallen for him, and she knew it wasn’t typical teenage love. Theirs she knew was going to last. She could feel it in her bones._

_He was on Thanksgiving break, and she’d been there to greet him the second his parents car pulled into the driveway. His parents, unlike hers, didn’t care. If anything they were completely disinterested in their sons life. A fact that made her sad._

_“Dana…” he groans, as her fingers deftly go at his belt buckle. He grabs her wrist to stop her. “We’re at the park.”_

_“And?”_

_“I’m not fucking you against an Oak tree.”_

_She smirks, her eyes wide and full of lust. “Then don’t. You can be against it.”_

_His cock twitches. He’s already hard and can’t even begin to concentrate. Her perfect mouth is slightly open, and her lips are swollen. “Dana, we really shouldn’t…”_

_She's going to break his resolve. It’s a challenge, one she welcomes wholeheartedly. “Who cares about what we should or shouldn’t do? I’m tired of being the good Catholic girl with straight A’s. The pressure my parents put on me to be perfect is exhausting.”_

_“We both know your not that good Catholic girl,” he smirks teasing her._

_“No, I’m not,” she says, as her hands fall to her sides. “But with you, I don’t have to be anyone but me.”_

_He leans down, and kisses her gently. Her lips part slightly and let him in. They’ve done this dance a million times and it never gets boring. She could kiss him for hours, something they’ve probably done with some real heavy make out sessions at his house. Her hands are threaded through his hair, and she can feel him against her thigh. Her body is responding to him and she wraps her leg around his. Her fingers once again find his belt buckle, only this time, he doesn’t stop her._

_Ten minutes later, they’re both out of breath and thoroughly satiated. “Well, I guess this means your going to be the sore one tomorrow,” she quips as he shakes his head and gives her one long kiss. “Worth it. Also, I’ll never think of Oak trees in the same way again.”_

_She laughs, “Me neither.”_


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For a prompt: jealous Mulder is my favorite. Could you do some jealous Mulder that maybe leads to MSR first time? I love your writing!!! Thank you so much!😄

“Scully, seriously? That man was undressing you with his eyes! How could you have missed it.”

“Um, because he wasn’t?” She counters, as they make their way back to the rental. “Sheriff Hartz was just being friendly.”

“You really are blind,” he mutters, as he opens the door, only to slam it forcefully behind him. “You really don’t see the affect you have on men do you?” He asks, looking at her as they stand outside the car.

“You’re being ridiculous, Mulder.”

He glares at her. For such an intelligent woman, she can be really dense. Maybe she’d spent too much time around him for her to really see it. He stops her, and grabs her arm. “Listen,” he says and cups her face in his hand, “You are so god damn beautiful it sometimes hurts to look at you.” His confession is soft, and renders her speechless.

He’s serious. “You think I don’t notice? You think I’m completely oblivious too? I watch you, Scully, and not in the creepy way, but you fascinate me. From how you walk, to the way you hold a highlighter over a case report. I could give you a million more examples, but those are the ones that come off the top of my head.”

She’s blushing.

“Mulder…”

He stops her as he tucks a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “It fucking hurts to look at you, because all I want to do is touch you. Feel your skin, taste you… and I haven’t because we toe the line of professionalism. Because I’m afraid that if I show you how much you mean to me, your going to run or worse…”

His eyes are questioning, as he searches her face. “Mulder…” she pauses. A beat. “I didn’t know you felt that way.” It’s safe, she’s still guarded. It isn’t a rejection, and he knows she needs time to process his confession.

“I’ve felt it since the beginning. When you were abducted I couldn’t rest until I found you. When you had cancer… I put a gun to my head, ready to pull the trigger because you were dying and it was my fault. I even went through the IVF procedures because I thought that giving you the baby you wanted would somehow make you realize how much I love you. Fuck Scully, how could you not see it with all the evidence to back it up.”

“I didn’t see it,” she mutters, her eyes are wet with tears. “I am so sorry I didn’t see it. It would have saved us a hell of a lot of time. Mulder… I love you. I’m so tired of denying it.”

That’s all he needs to hear, and leans in kissing her soundly on the mouth. It deepens, and she pulls away all to aware of their surroundings. “We should probably continue this somewhere a little more private.”

“Well, your room or mine?”


	8. Grandpa Scully takes care of a sick Hannah

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Prompt (if its still open): bc I love the recent one you made for that anon, I was thinking maybe a sequel??? Like Ahab still alive, but this time Mulder and Scully get married, then they have miracle baby number two. Or miracle baby number two is born and gets to spend time with Ahab or something like that 😁

“You’ll be okay watching her for the day?”

Her dad nodded. Hannah was sick, and since they both had meetings at work, neither one could stay home. It was both a blessing and a curse being able to work together, but today, it was more of a curse. Her mother was out of town visiting her brother, so her dad was her only option at the moment. “Relax, Dana. We will be fine, right Rose bud?”

“Right, Grandpa,” her four-year old, still clad in her pajamas says in agreement.

“Okay,” she says warily. “She’ll need another dose of Tylenol around noon, to keep her fever down. And if she’s too much, call me or Mulder. One of us will come and get her.”

“Will do.”

“Okay,” she says, and gives Hannah a quick kiss on the cheek. “Be good for Grandpa, please. Dad or I will pick you up as soon as we can alright?”

“Ok, mommy,” Hannah says, clutching her blanket. “Love you.”

“Love you too, Monkey.”

She looks at her dad, “I really appreciate this.”

“I know,” he says, with a smile. “Go to work, Dana. Hannah and I have cartoons to watch.”

She chuckles, “Okay, Okay, I’m going.”

Once the door shuts, he looks at Hannah, whose close to tears, “I just want my mommy.”

He picks her up, and she puts her chin under his chest. “Your mom and dad have to work, Hannah. But I promise we’ll have fun today. Let’s go see what Disney movie we can find, I think your grandmother got a new one, recently… just for you.”

After watching both Cinderella two and Cars, Hannah was sound asleep on the couch, curled up next to him. The phone rang, just as soon as he flicked on the television. He quickly picks it up, where it was on the cradle next to him.

“Hey, it’s me, how is she doing?”

“Sound asleep. We just spent the last three hours watching Cars and Cinderella.”

The image of her father, a retired Navy Captain watching Disney movies with her four year old is slightly comical. “How’s her temp?”

“I haven’t taken it, yet but she’s not warm right now.”

“Good. Has she eaten or drank anything?” My god does she sound like her own mother, she thinks with a smirk on her face.

“Water. She wasn’t interested in toast.”

“Okay, try and entice her later. I have one more meeting, and then I can swing by to get her.”

“Don’t worry about us, we’re fine here.”

“Sounds like it,” she quips, “don’t forget the Tylenol at noon… Shit, I have to go. Thanks, dad.”

“Bye Dana.”

Hannah stirs, and blinks her eyes open. “Was that mommy?”

“She was checking up on you,” he says, putting the phone back on the cradle. “Reminding me that you need your medicine in about an hour.”

“I don’t like the medicine,” she grimaces, looking exactly like her mother. “It tastes bad. Even Will says so.”

“It will help you feel better,” he says, as she looks at the television. “What happened to Cars?”

“You fell asleep, Hannah.”

“Oh, can we start it over?”

“Of course,” he says, as Hannah curls back up next to him.

She finds them sound asleep, curled up on the couch after letting herself in. They look so adorable, that she hates to wake them up. “Hannah,” she says gently, bending down so that she’s eye level. “Wake up, Monkey.”

Hannah blinks her eyes open slowly, and as soon as she realizes it’s her, she throws her arms around her neck. “Mommy!” She yells, causing her dad to stir. “You’re back.”

“Yep, ready to head home? We have to pick up Will from extended day.”

Hannah yawns and shifts off the couch and on to the floor. “We have to be quiet Han, Christopher is sleeping in his carrier in the hallway.”

“Bye Grandpa, thanks for watching movies with me.” She hugs him and he kisses the top of her head. “Anytime, Rose bud.”

“Thanks again, Dad.”

“She’s a good kid. Much like you were, actually.”

She grins. “Mom!” Hannah calls, interrupting the moment. So much for her being quiet, she thinks, as she hears Christopher start to cry. “Well, that’s my cue. See you later, dad,” she says giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Take care,” he adds as she’s already in the hallway, picking up the carrier. Hannah slips on her coat, and follows her mother out the front door.

“So, Han, how was your sick day with Grandpa?”

“Fun,” Hannah exclaims opening the car door, as she clicks Christopher back into his seat. Reaching over, she puts Hannah’s seat belt on as well. “Grandpa even cut the crust off my toast,” she says, as her feet sway against the seat. “And said I was prettier than Cinderella.”

“He did, did he?”

“I said that’s not true because Cinderella has yellow hair not red like mine. He then told me that I being a goof, and that I should listen to him.”

“That sounds like something he’d say,” she chuckles, before shutting the car door.

An hour later, they finally make it home. It really felt like the never ending day. Will has so much energy, and she wishes she could bottle some for herself. Hannah looks as if she’s about to collapse as soon as they get into the house, and Christopher is oblivious to it all, sleeping soundly in the car seat. It’s days like this that are really a testament to her patience.

Ten years ago, if you’d ask her to picture her life, this was nowhere in the realm of possibility. Married to Mulder, with three kids, in the suburbs sounded like a X-file.

She’s in the middle of starting dinner, when she hears Will jump off the couch to go greet his dad. “Will…” she admonishes. She knows he’s definitely just as exhausted as she is. Majority of their day was spent getting their asses chewed out over expenses. It had been tiring to say the least.

With the baby on her hip, she's in the process of testing out her chili when he presses a kiss to the back of her neck, and she feels a chill run down her spine. Even after all these years, their chemistry is still as evident as ever. The electricity between them, cackles with more force than before.

“Hi,” he says, resting his chin on her head.

“Try this,” she turns and holds the spoon up to his lips. “I’m missing something…”

“Cumin? Salt?”

“Definitely that,” she says, and hands him the baby. “I’m afraid to ask how the rest of your day went…”

“Well, we’re suspended until forensic accounting can do a thorough overview of our department. They’re trying to tell us that we need to work in the parameters of other departments.”

“You’d think by now, they’d know we are not like other departments.”

“I know,” he shakes his head. “But honestly, what’s there to look for anymore? I have all the truth I need in front of me. Think about it, I found my sister. Isn’t that enough closure? I’m getting too old to be chasing monsters in the dark, Dana.”

Of all the things in the world that could have come out of his mouth, nothing had prepared her for him to say that he was finished with the X-files. The truth, whatever it was that he sought, was her and the life they created for themselves. She’s speechless. Her mouth literally drops, “I’m sorry, what?”

“I’m pushing forty-five and I think it’s time to let someone new take the reigns. Maybe you could even go back to medicine. I know you’ve been thinking about it, and it’s time for you do to do something for you.”

She has been itching for something new, something with more regular hours and less travel. Since Christopher was born six months ago, she’d been putting in part time hours and telecommuting when he took a case out of state. She’d be a ball of anxiety the entire time, especially because he was alone with no one out there to watch his back. “I honestly never thought you’d say those words. So this is how it all ends?”

“It’s not an ending, but a new beginning.”


	9. Power Trip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU where Scully is Mulder's boss and they really don't like one another...

She hated him. He was a smart ass, egocentric, rude, work-obsessed son of a bitch that loved challenging her direct orders every step of the way. He was smug, arrogant and she had to deal with the consequences of him pissing people off- from local police departments to colleagues to the Department of Defense- on more than one occasion. This was her department, and he was good at undermining her every step of the way.

Special Agent Fox Mulder had underestimated her. She didn’t get to have her name on the wall without going toe to toe with some very powerful men.

He hated her. His boss, the saint Dana Katherine Scully, the youngest woman in the FBI to become deputy director of the FBI. He wondered how many men she had to fuck to get that position. Objectively, she was a very beautiful woman, with her bright blue eyes, and lithe little body. He’s imagined what underneath those suits a few times while she chewed his ass out. She is a staunch play by the book kind of woman, while he is more of a play by his own set of rules man, suffice to say they clashed.

She looks as though she wants to smack the smug look off his face, and he won’t deny he’d like to see her do it.

“Special Agent Mulder, have you even heard a word I said?” Her voice is steely, her tone is no nonsense, and she looks as if she wants to strangle him.

“Yes, Director,” he says, looking her squarely in the eyes. “I’m only trying to uncover the truth here, and do my job.”

“Your job, Agent Mulder is to solve unexplainable cases, to which you’ve done abysmally with a 32% solve rate. Your little personal quest is very close to being shut down due to your lack of decorum and professionalism.”

“32% isn’t bad for unsolvable cases, Director Scully, don’t you think?” He says, narrowing his eyes. He stands up, and puts his hands on her desk, leaning towards her face, he says, “Are we done here?”

Furious at his display of insubordination and masculinity, she meets him and puts her face close to his, so close she can feel his breathing quicken. It’s a power trip. “Agent Mulder, we are done when I say so. Get your ass back in that chair and listen to me.”

He doesn’t. They stare at one another, like agitated lions. “Sit.”

He stays rooted to the floor. He isn’t some fucking dog.

He challenges her, and leans just a little closer. His face just inches away from hers. Amazed by his boldness, she refuses to pull away. It’s become a challenge of the wills.

“Agent Mulder...”

She’s cut off. Suddenly, his lips are on hers, ferociously attacking them, and she doesn’t pull away. It’s been a long time since she’d been kissed like this, and the electricity sparks between them, cackling like lightening. The desk between them is the only obstacle, and she finally finds her head, jolting away from him.

Her lips are swollen, her face is flushed and her hair is mused. He’s got a cocky grin on his face, and she feels completely untethered. “That was completely unprofessional.”

He looks at her, unashamed. “And...”

“That will never happen again.”

“It won’t?” He asks, crossing the room, standing close to her. They’re only a foot apart and there’s no desk this time. She doesn’t trust herself, as he inches closer.

“No,” her voice says, but her body betrays her. He grabs her by the hips, and pulls her against him. Her eyes widen, as she feels his desire. It feels good, too good, and she doesn’t pull away when he kisses her again, urgently. He bunches up her skirt, and teases her with this fingers. She almost bucks against him, instinctively and it’s taking every bit of willpower to not moan. He lifts her, not breaking contact and she sits on the desk.

Her mind is screaming like this is bad idea, but she can’t bring herself to care when his tongue is in her throat, and his finger is expertly stimulating her clit.

He enters her, and she’s done. Game over. Her eyes feel as though they’re rolling in the back of her head, as he comes just after.

They don’t speak, or make eye contact. He slips out of her, rebuttons his dress pants, and gives her a look before he goes, shutting the door behind him, leaving her to wonder what just happened.


	10. A Pre-Series Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I really enjoy your work! So happy to see you now on AO3. If taking pretty mots any chance will do an AU where Mulder is Scully’s instructor at the Academy or Mulder meets Scully when she is dating Waterston? MSR in whatever of course.

Dana Scully hadn’t given much thought to her Criminal Profiling course, a mandatory requirement, and very much a soft science. She was a scientist- empirical data and hard evidence made sense to her- the psychology of criminals? Not so much. 

She heard the whispers about him. Special Agent Fox Mulder, golden boy of the Criminal Behavior Unit in Violent Crimes. He literally wrote the book on criminal profiling, all at barely thirty years old. 

She’s also heard the rumors that he was spooky, to which she paid no attention too, she was too busy trying to pass training. Although training had been a cake walk compared to her telling her father about her plans to abandon medicine. Suffice to say, Captain Scully, did not approve. 

She was early, of course, and made her way to the front of the empty lecture hall. After securing a seat front and center, she pulled out her notebook and favorite pen. A pen her sister, Melissa, had given to her when she graduated Medical School, that had her name inscribed into the metal: Dana Scully, MD. 

She hadn’t noticed him, until he walked by her. He was tall and lanky. Much taller than her petite five foot three. He wore a suit, glasses and his tie had ducks on them. She did not know what to make of that, as she observed him set up. 

He offered her a small smile, as if now aware of her presence. “Do I look nervous?” 

She regards him carefully. “It’s my first day.” 

Her eyes widen in recognition. “You’re Agent Mulder.” 

“I am,” he says, and takes out a stack of papers from his briefcase. Now it was his turn to regard her, “And you are?” 

Right. Words. Speak, Dana. “Dana Scully.” 

“Dana Scully,” he tests it out, and quirks a grin at her. “Well it’s nice to meet you.” 

“You too,” she says, easily, as other cadets begin to enter the lecture hall. 

She’s too busy watching his lips move to hear what he’s saying. It’s not that it isn’t interesting, it’s just his lower lip juts out just a little whenever he exuberantly talks about past profiles he worked on, and she finds it adorable.

Her mind chastises herself for even the hint of lustful thoughts she’s current having. Since the utter disaster of her last relationship, which ironically was the catalyst for her being in the FBI, she promised herself that she wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. She wouldn’t be ruled by her fucking hormones. She was twenty seven, a grown woman, and a medical doctor no less, utterly enraptured by a man she just met.

Her poker face was too good for him to have even given he a second thought prior to their introduction.

All too soon, the two hours had ended, with a homework assignment: create your own profile on a prolific serial killer, just to get your feet wet, he said. Think like a murderer, he advised. With that, he left them to their own devices.

Think like a murderer? It was interesting, she had to admit. She had autopsied murder victims, which always left her with a slow burning rage at the perpetrator. The injustice of it all made her fume. So, when the opportunity to use her medical degree to stop criminals was presented to her, she jumped at the chance. Now, she just had to figure out how to make her background fit into this assignment and suddenly that gave her an idea, a good one, if she had to say so herself.

She got an A.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:

Criminal Profiling ended up being her highest grade, outside of Forensic Pathology, where the instructor was so incompetent she could have taught the course herself.

Her time at Quantico as a cadet was over. While her classmates got excited over their assignments, she already knew where she was going: Quantico Pathology Lab. Dana Scully, MD and forever lab rat.

She was almost jealous. The cadets with field assignments left her feeling bitter. In another life, maybe, she thinks.

Tonight, she’s going out. An offer by a fellow Cadet, Tom Colton, invited her to join a group of them for celebratory beers. She was about to decline, until she realized; why the hell not?

The bar itself, was busy. No surprise there, since it was a Friday night. The black dress she wore felt a little too tight, and even the denim jacket slung around her shoulders didn’t make her feel casual. Plus, she knew she had been the subject to a few more leers than she was comfortable with. She told herself one beer, and she’d drive back to base.

One beer.

She hasn’t expected to see him. At the bar, alone, nursing a glass of whiskey. He looked good, too good without his dorky ties and FBI issued suit. That familiar pool of desire began to take hold, and she tried to avoid it, throwing her two cents into a conversation she really didn’t want to be a part of.

He sees her though. The brainy red head, with doe blue eyes, wearing a short black dress was only feet away from him. He motions for the bartender. He’s going to buy her a drink.

He pulls out a pen, and hands it to the bartender to give to the waitress whose bringing them drinks. Dana Scully, MD, had left it behind on the last day of class.

He became more and more curious about her, and just wanted to know more about her. A medical doctor in the FBI wasn’t something he’d seen. Especially one so young, and not practicing.

When the waitress hands her a beer, she looks confused. The phrase, “I didn’t order this”, is on the tip of her tongue, but when she’s handed the pen she looks at him and smiles.

Their eyes meet, and he grins back, holding his drink up. She takes her beer, and does the same. Taking a sip, she walks toward him.

The stool next to him is empty, and she sits down. “Thank you,” she says, regarding him. “That pen was from my sister, and it’s...”

“Sentimental?”

“Yeah,” she quirks a grin. “Also, lucky.”

“I’m glad I could return it.”

“So, Special Agent Fox Mulder, is where all the Agents go after long cases?”

She’s so young, and so green, that he finds her utterly adorable. “Something like that. It’s just Mulder, though.”

“Mulder,” she says, trying it out. “In that case I’m just Scully.”

He laughs, captivated. “So, just Scully, are you excited to graduate?”

“I’m ambivalent,” she says, looking at him. “I’m headed to Quantico to actually teach. I’m a Forensic Pathologist.”

“You’re kidding?”

“Nope, I’m taking over for Dr. Elias.”

“Ah, I see. That first paper you wrote makes so much more sense now.”

She laughs, and he looks at her. Her eyes are bright, and she’s flushed from the alcohol running through her veins. The sound of it, he wishes he could bottle.

“Then our paths will definitely cross again, Agent Scully.”

“Are you coming tomorrow?”

“I’ll be there. As a instructor our presence is mandatory.”

She smiles. “Good, I’m glad.”

“Your friends are staring, I think they are looking for you.”

She turns and sees them. Colton waves and she just nods. “There not really my friends. You actually saved me from a very boring conversation. You are far more interesting.”

“Am I?” His tone is low, and flirty. She can see his pupils dilate and all the tells that he’s attracted to her embolden her. “Hey, wanna get out of here?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Where?”

“I have an apartment in Georgetown.”

“You coming onto me, Scully?”

She looks at him. “And if I was...”

“I don’t think any man in their right mind would resist an invitation like that.”

“Good thing your not just any man,” she teases, and signals for the bartender. “A two finger shot of top shelf, please.” He gapes at her. “One for the road, Mulder, it’s on me.”

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

His lips are on hers before they even make it into her apartment. She’s pinned against her door and she feels the chemistry cackle between them. She wants him, badly.

Her rational side is out the window, as her carnal instincts take center stage. “Mulder, we should probably continue this inside,” she says, her voice is low, and breathy.

He nods, and moves, as she fiddles with her lock. The door swings open, and they both start to shed their clothes. She throws her denim jacket on the couch as he kisses her neck, and she works on his jeans. Her fingers are on his zipper, as he slides her dress straps off her shoulders.

“Bed,” she moans, as he hits her sweet spot on her neck.

She doesn’t need to say it again.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

He’s gone when she wakes up. At first, she’s thinks that maybe it was just a one-night stand until she sees a note on the pillow next to her.

S,

Or should I say Agent Scully?

See you later today. Dinner?

M

She smiles to herself, sore and satiated she cannot wait until Graduation. She has a feeling that whatever it is between them is just beginning.


	11. Late in Life Miracle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Would you write a fic about Scully and Mulder having their second baby? Like post revival but they never gave up William and planned for a baby, stayed together, all that, but once they gave up on having more kids she miraculously got pregnant in her 50’s.

They’re moving Jackson into his dorm, when it hits her: they’re going to be empty nesters. She’d known that this day was coming, she’d prepared herself for it, mentally, but it was still so hard. He was her baby who became a college freshman at UVA. It felt like yesterday when she was bandaging his cuts and kissing them better. Today she helped move a mini fridge into his dorm room.

“Mom, you can let go. Thanksgiving break isn’t that far away.”

“Scully, your strangling him,” he quips, as she let’s go. She reaches out and touches Will’s face. “Mom, I’ll be fine.”

“I know,” she says, mostly trying to convince herself that she’d be fine. “It’s just going to be so weird without you.” He quirks a smile. “I know the two of you can keep yourself plenty busy without me. Dad is enough of a child, that you should have you hands full.”

“Kids got a point, Scully,” he says reaching for her hand. “Come on, let’s go.”

“You’ll call,” she says, eyeing him. “If you need anything.”

“He’s fine, Scully. He’s got beer, condoms and our credit card in case of emergencies.”

She shoots him a glare as the two of them share a laugh. “He’s kidding, mom. But really, I’ll call.”

“Okay,” she says finally, knowing that if she didn’t force herself to leave, she’d be rooted to the floor. “I love you, Will.”

“I love you too, mom.”

She hasn’t stopped crying since they left his dorm, and she has no idea why. She isn’t a crier, but it’s hitting her like a train. He reaches over the counsel and squeezes her hand. “I’ll miss him too.”

The house is quiet and empty, save Dagoo, curled up on the couch too old and tired to greet them. He does wag his tail, as a hello, and goes back to sleeping. He would have come running if it were Will. Will was his favorite.

“Come on boy,” Mulder falls from the kitchen. “Dinner.” The prospect of a meal rouses him, so she takes his warm spot on the couch.

After Dagoo is fed and let out, he goes to sit with her on the couch holding a bowl of popcorn in his hands. The smell of the butter makes her stomach churn and she feels sick. Rushing to the bathroom, she ends up just making it in time to empty out her stomach.

“You okay?” He asks, full of concern. She hadn’t been feeling good lately, mostly just exhausted and he chalked it up to the stress of William leaving. “I’m fine,” she says, and rinses her mouth out. “But I’ll make an appointment anyway,” she says gently. She knows he’s jumping to the worst case scenario: Cancer. “Come on, let’s go watch a movie. You can pick.”

She can’t believe it. They tried for years to have another baby. Years. Eventually, she resigned herself to the fact that she already got her miracle. Asking for another seemed like too much, but it didn’t stop her from wanting one, selfishly.

“Mulder?”

“In the kitchen.”

She follows her nose. “Smells good in here.”

“How was your appointment?”

“I’m not sick,” she begins, with a small smile on her lips. “Well, nothing that won’t resolve itself in about six months.”

He’s confused, and then it dawns on him. His face breaks out into the biggest grin she’s ever seen. “No way.”

“I’m pregnant.”

He looks at her, in complete amazement. “You’re pregnant?”

“I am. It’s been confirmed by a blood test and an ultrasound,” she says, and pulls the image out of her pocket, and hands it to him. “That’s a baby, Scully.”

She bites her lip, her eyes are wet and she’s so happy that she gets to share this with him that it’s making her dizzy. He pulls her into his arms, and she feels herself melt. “A baby.”

“I know I’m high risk, and considering the complications with William... I’m almost afraid to hope for a normal pregnancy.”

“Scully,” he says, gently. “We were due for another miracle.”


	12. Here Lies Fox Mulder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An: in which Fox Mulder died.

An: in which Fox Mulder died.

Death never gets easier, and time doesn’t necessarily help heal it. The losses eclipse the gains, well, most of them.

She feels his presence, while the sun shines on her back, slowly burning her pale skin. There’s a good chance her shoulders will have a nice twinge of pink, but she’s forgotten her sunblock and it’s a small price to pay.

“Mom?”

For a split second, she thinks it’s him. She misses his voice. Even after all these years, she still has the last message he ever left on her voicemail. She’s replayed it thousands of times,

 _Hey Scully, it’s me. I’m at the airport, on this lousy pay phone, because my cellphone isn’t charged... I can already hear you chastising me for that one... anyway, I just wanted to check in...Make sure you’re okay, and taking care of yourself. As a doctor, you really do make a terrible patient. I do have the evidence to quantify that last statement too... Fuck, it’s telling me I need to put in another quarter... see you soon and I l...”_  
She never got to know what his last word was... she likes to believe that he’s saying love, and maybe one day he’ll tell her again.

Will looks so much like a mixture of both of them, and when she turns around he’s holding a pot of Lilies, with the patented Fox Mulder grin on his face. “You know you’re going to get a sunburn...”

She shakes her head chuckling, as he slowly eases himself onto the grass next to her. He hands her the pot, and she grabs the extra pair of gardening gloves. A tradition that they’ve shared for the last twenty years

As they quietly work the earth surrounding his headstone, they fall into a rhythm. She digs, he plants, and eventually she’ll get teary. She’ll trace his name with her fingers, FOX WILLIAM MULDER, and tell him a story. She has a treasure trove of stories, and he revels in it. Each piece of information on the man he never met is worth more than gold.

After tracing the R, she looks at him- the kind, stubborn, brilliant son they created- and says, “Will, did I ever tell you about the day we met?”

He shakes his head, “Not the day, but the case.”

Oregon, 1993. She’d give anything to go back and relive it.

“I was assigned to the X-files, to essentially debunk his work, and shut him down.”

_“Sorry, nobody down here but the FBI's most unwanted,” he greets, with his back to the door. He’s going over some slides, as she takes in various images and paper clippings. She takes note of the I Want to Believe poster, in the center of a cork board, and she wonders what she’s gotten herself into._   
_“Agent Mulder. I'm Dana Scully, I've been assigned to work with you,” she extends her hand, and takes it. Firm grasp. No nonsense. His eyes, tell another story, as he stares at her as if he can read her. It’s unnerving. Spooky._

“He told me once that was when he fell in love with me. That exact moment, he said, it was a love at first sight, which if you know me, you’d know I thought was ridiculous.” Will gives her a smirk. “He would have loved you, Will.”

“I know,” he says, and slings his arm around her shoulder. “I know, mom.”


	13. A William Arc Fix-It

She sat in the backseat, while Monica drove, holding onto William, clinging to him as if he would vanish if she didn’t.

The baby was sound asleep, as he should be, but she doubted she’d ever sleep again. Not that she hadn’t much before. Her mothers words kept ringing in her ears, “You should be thanking god, for this miracle. The child that wasn’t supposed to be.”

Her pursuit for answers almost got him killed. Endangered the lives of the people she trusted the most and that was on her. The baby clearly wasn’t normal, but did she expect anything else? She’d questioned everything since she found out she was pregnant, and she hadn’t stopped.

The guilt hit her right in the stomach. The losses were too long to list, and the price she paid for the bundle in her arms was heavy. He let out a little sigh, and she wiped a tear out of her eye. She had to be strong. She had to be.

A nagging voice in the back of her mind told her that the only way she’d ever be safe would be to disappear. Dana Scully and William needed to die. Only in death could they finally be free. Finally be safe.

A plan began to form and she knew she had to make a very difficult decision, and she couldn’t tell a soul.

xxxx

The sun had just set over the Arizona desert, when she drove into the tiny trailer park. She was tired from driving and it didn’t help that her son decided to cry from the time they left Texas. He had finally fallen asleep, as she pulled the beaten down Volvo into park. She was surprised that the car she bought somewhere in New Mexico was even able to make it the last thousand miles.

She finally, finally took a breath. Safe. They were safe.

William didn’t even stir as she plucked him out of the car seat and situated him on her chest. He was out, thankfully, and hoped he’d stay asleep.

She knocked, three times on the door to the airstream. A coded message, she knew he’d appreciate.

She could hear him moving, as she stood on the steps, waiting.

When he opens the door, she can’t help but notice the stubble on his face, and twinkle in his eye. They just stare, taking each other in for the first time in months, with matching grins on their faces. She knew if the baby wasn’t rested on her chest, the reunion would have been a different sort.

“Hi,” she whispers, softly can’t believing she’s actually standing in front of him.

“Hi,” he says, softly and looks at the baby between them. “He’s gotten bigger.”

“I’d wake him up for you, but he’s been crying for hours.”

He nods, and opens the door wider to let them in. “We can put him in the bed,” he offers, and leads her further back, past the small kitchen.

She puts him in the center of the bed, and luckily he doesn’t stir. He snakes an arm around her waist, and pulls her against him. He’s warm, and she turns so that she’s in his chest.

He’s here. She’s here. William is here.

He pulls her away, and kisses her soundly on the mouth making up for lost time.

They cling to one another in the darkness of the trailer, like he’s her air and she’s been deprived of oxygen. She hadn’t realized she’d been crying until he thumbs the tears off her face. “I’ve missed you.”

“It’s been so hard, Mulder.” The weight of the last year and a half dissolved as soon as she was in his arms, the pain of loosing him, getting him back, only to let him go was exhausting. “I couldn’t keep him safe. I tried, and I failed.”

The Gunmen had already informed him of Williams kidnapping and return. The cult in Canada was gone. His son was the only survivor.

He didn’t know how she managed to go through that alone. “He’s here, Dana. I’m here. We can keep him safe.”

“I can’t keep looking for answers to questions, I don’t want to ask.”

“So we stop looking. We do the best we can to give him a normal life, whatever that may look like.”

She flashes back to a conversation they had years ago, “We get out of the car.”

“Exactly.”


	14. My Life, Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post Never Again One-Shot. I'm a believer that Scully did sleep with Jerse because 1. did you see the chemistry? 2. It wasn't as out of character as most people make it out to be 3. Because she's human and deserves to get laid...

She knows exactly why she did it. She wanted to feel something. To rebel. To remind him that she was human, and not on some kind of pedestal. She knew it was dangerous, out of character, and reckless.

He was charming and exuded sexuality. He made her feel like a woman. He wanted her. She was desired, and it turned her on even more.

She touched him and he pinned her against the wall as her legs wrapped around him. When he kissed her, it was hot. So hot, that she forgot what it felt to be kissed like this. To loose control.

Dana Scully was no Virgin Mary. She was no saint, and when she screamed ‘oh my god’ in the throes of passion it was a definite sin. But hell, being bad never felt so good.

When he fucked her on the floor of his apartment, all she could think about was her partner and how angry she was at him. She couldn’t even get him out of her head as Ed was literally inside her. It just made her angrier, as she dug her nails into his flesh marking him as hers.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

This is my life, Mulder.

Mine.

He bit at her shoulder, and followed after, as she yelped in pain.

Alive. She was alive.

He looked almost guilty, and offered her the bed. She almost said no, but he stopped her. The weather was really bad, and he would take the coach. She reluctantly agreed, and grabbed his shirt from off the floor taking it with her.

The next morning, he tried to kill her, until he stuck his hand in the incinerator in an effort to burn off the tattoo that was driving him insane.

It was her second appearance in the x-files, much to her partners chagrin. He was being a certified asshole, and she could detect a little jealousy, but she wasn’t sure. He had no claim to her. They only shared the files, but he had the office. His space.

“All this, because I’ve... because I didn’t get you a desk?

“Not everything is about you, Mulder. This is my life,” she says, tiredly. Her body hurt, she was bruised and tired, but he didn’t need to know it. Here, she was Special Agent Scully, in her tailored suit and perfectly styled hair.

“Yes but it’s m...”

“What?”

He doesn’t know what to say. Instead the silence stretches between them as if they’re in some kind of liminal space.

The air between them change, and he’s not sure where they even stand anymore. She’s closed off -impenetrable- and he’s left wondering how to fix it.


	15. Dealing with it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post Paper-Clip where Scully deals with Grief

She keeps her grief locked in a box, compartmentalized, and categorized in her brain, under feelings.

The quiet formidable strength she posses is a result of her ability to keep her emotions and her actions separate. She isn’t sure when she learned how to do it- but it happened instinctively- as a way of self-protection.

The truth was, she felt too much. Emotionally, she would feel things deeply, and viscerally. Sadness would manifest in tears and a deep feeling of melancholy would seep into her bones. Anger was hot, burning through her veins like fire. Happiness was akin to nirvana, the high that drug addicts would chase by shoving needles under their skin.

Right now, as she sat across from her partner, quietly doing a expense report that was supposed to be on Skinners desk twenty minutes ago, she felt a sense of contentment. The fact the there was no active cases, and a free weekend (without her partner) looming in the very near future, she felt almost euphoric.

Her plans included a nice quiet, relaxing weekend that involved a bath, wine, reading and laundry. The order of which was to be determined.

He looked up, perched his glasses on the desk, and handed her a pen. The only thing left was her signature. She didn’t even bother to read it, or check it because she found herself not caring. She scrawled her loopy, perfect signature- the result of years in catholic school where the nuns only tolerated perfection- and slid the report back to him.

“You’re not going to even review it?” He asks, quirking a eyebrow at her.

“For the first time, I trust you, at least in regards to this,” she said shifting in her seat, under his curious gaze. “Well, okay then.”

He leans back, and stretches, as she takes it off his desk. “I’ll go run this upstairs.”

He nods, as she stands to leave. The politeness between the two of them unnerves her. It isn’t them, and she knows exactly why. They haven’t talked about it, nor does she want to. It was a one time thing, a ill-considered night.

A week ago, she woke up in his bed, and slipped out under the cover of darkness.

She was grieving, and he was just there, as she’d been for him. Her sister had been murdered, and when he wrapped his arms around her, she felt protected. He knew what it was like, too. He understood. She needed that. She needed to feel something other than grief, and when she kissed him it was remarkably clear about what her intentions were.

“Scully?” He says, stopping her in the doorway, “are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she says, offering him a soft smile. “I’ll be right back.”

As soon as she steps into the elevator, she feels lighter. She takes her time, and makes small talk with Skinners assistant, Kimberly. She tries to be carefully normal, when it’s taking everything out of her just to exchange pleasantries. When Kimberly offers her condolences about her sister, it takes everything in her not to cry. “Thank you,” she says, hoping she sounds sincere.

The phrase, ‘I’m sorry for your loss’ has lost all meaning. Melissa wasn’t missing or lost, she was dead, and her body was decomposing in a casket buried next to her father. That was the truth. As a medical doctor, specializing in death, she was intimately aware of what was happening to her sister, as the world went on without her.

She blinks back a tear, and wipes her eyes, as she rides the elevator back down to the basement. To her surprise, he isn’t there and she breathes a litttle easier. Deciding to go to the file cabinet, she tasks herself with organizing the flies. The mindless tedium of it allows her a modicum of peace.

She’s begun to start on the S’ when she stops. X-MAS101762: Scully, Melissa Ann  
She didn’t know he started one, and was assured the VCU was handling her case. Then again, they both knew that her sisters bullet was meant for her. It should be her. She was warned, after all.

It should be me.  
It should be me.  
It should be me.  
She couldn’t take it anymore and slammed the cabinet shut.

“Scully,” a familiar voice said, startling her.

He was looking at her as if she were some fragile piece of glass. The look of pure concern on his face, was enough to make her want to scream at him. I’m fine, Mulder. I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine.

“You’re not fine, so cut the crap.” Her eyes widen, she hadn’t meant to say it out loud. “You’re quiet, you’ve barely looked at me all day, and your... grieving. You really should take some time...”

“I’m not taking time off, Mulder,” she says, folding her arms. “I need to work. I need to figure out who shot her. I need...”

“When was the last time you ate? Or slept? And don’t lie to me.” He cuts her off, and she glares at him.

She wasn’t sleeping, or eating. She was actually staying at a hotel, until her landlord was able to secure her a new apartment. The couple in the fourth floor one was due to leave, and it was hers. She just had to last one more week. Her silence was the answer, and he gently put a hand on her shoulder. “I’m worried about you,” he says gently.

She doesn’t say a word, and her lip quivers. She can feel the tears building, and a emotional outburst in her partners arms isn’t something she should be doing. It’s exactly what led to them having sex...

It’s like deja vu when he pulls her into his arms, and she lets him. Her vulnerability scares her, but she’s too fucking overwhelmed to care. When she finally allows herself to cry, he just holds her, and she can feel him crying too as his chest heaves.

His chin is on her head, and he envelops her, probably hoping to take the pain away, which he knows is impossible.

When she finally runs out of tears, emotionally spent, he pulls her away, and looks at her. He takes his thumb and rubs away her tears. It’s intimate, far too intimate for just partners, and she looks at him resigned. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.”

“What? Cried?” He’s confused. “Dana, it’s normal to cry.”

“I don’t,” she says, stubbornly, taken aback by his use of her first name. “It’s...”

“What? Weak? Vulnerable? Because guess what, I don’t look at you any differently then before.”

Before what, Mulder, she wants to ask. In some round about way, she knows he’s taking about their encounter. The one they don’t talk about. The one they both pretend didn’t happen, because it was a moment of weakness on her part, and Dana Scully wasn’t weak.

“Why are you pulling away, when all I’m trying to do is help you?”

His question startles her. It’s as if he’s reading her mind. “I’m not pulling away,” she counters, “You’re holding me.”

“You know that isn’t what I meant,” he says, letting her go. “You came to my apartment looking for comfort, and then we slept together. You were grieving and I feel like I took advantage of you...”

“What? No.” She’s floored. “I initiated it,” she says, and looks at him. “You did nothing wrong.”

“So, why did you leave before I woke up?” He’s got her there. She feels like she’s backed into a corner, and she doesn’t know why. “And why haven’t we talked about it?”

“You want a conversation about what it means?” She's incredulous. “Because honestly, Mulder, I have no idea because we’d been dancing around our attraction for over a year. I never crossed the line, scared of what would happen if we did because you mean so much to me. You’re my best friend, and adding sex into the equation just makes everything more complicated.”

“Do you regret it?”

“No,” she shakes her head. “Not even a little bit. Do you?”

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “I think it was inevitable.”

Maybe it was. “I... am not doing okay,” she finally admits, and he nods. “I know, Scully, I know.”


	16. Thirty-Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary:  
> “I would have liked another one.” What if they had that conversation years ago...

“Wake up, Scully,” a familiar voice whispered, coaching her out of a deep sleep. “It’s your birthday.”

Thirty-Nine. Her last year of her thirties, a roller coaster of a decade, comprised of the highest of highs and lowest of lows.

“I know,” she mumbled. “We already celebrated last night... twice.”

When she blinks her eyes open, he’s propped on his elbow staring at her with a goofy grin on his face. His eyes are the only thing recognizable, lately. The beard he insisted on growing out makes him resemble a caveman, but it’s still him. The same infuriating man she fell in love with.

“It’s your birthday,” he repeated again, smiling widely, as her resolve breaks and she cracks a grin. “I’m aware what day it is, Mulder. What I find more interesting is the fact that you remember it.”

The days had a tendency to bleed together, considering the fact that they were technically fugitives. The newest apartment, they leased in New Mexico, was the most permanent thing they had in their lives.

She didn’t miss the scratchy motel sheets, or boxes of color used to make herself invisible. In a world where they only had one another to call home, they’d grown together.

He pulled her closer, and kissed her softly. That’s when a pang of guilt hits her squarely in the chest, and all she can think of is their son. William. He’d be two by now. His baby features would have dissipated into toddlerhood. She wonders if he still had his red hair or if it was now auburn. She wonders if he’d look more like her, or if he’d be more of a blend of the two of them.

He sees it on her eyes when he pulls away, knowing her better than she knows herself. He knows she was thinking of him. He knows better than to say anything, but pulls her into his arms. Her breathing regulates, and when she finally looks up at him, he can see the final wall crumbling. The vulnerability is in her eyes, as she finally, finally lets it out.

“I was thinking of William.”

Since the day at Fort Merriweather, they hadn’t talked about it. The guilt was too much. The pain was too raw and the fact that it was an emotionally charged situation already had put that specific conversation on the back burner. She couldn’t lose him, too. She’d already lost enough.

He’s silent, and rubs a tear away as it slid down her cheek. “I think of him every single day. I know I tell myself it was for the best, to protect him and keep him safe, but I gave him away. I wasn’t strong enough to keep him, and it kills me,” she choked out, as her voice cracks, haunted by memories.

It’s gutting him to see her like this, but knows that this is necessary for them to move forward.

“I carried him for nine months, I birthed him, and had seven months of being his mother. It’s not something that I can forget.”

He holds her, as sobs wreck her body, and her tears soak his shirt. He holds her because words are useless, and her grief speaks volumes. When she’s finally spent, she looks up at him. “You know, when I imagine it... I wish it could have been the two of you waking me up this morning, with stupid grins on your faces singing the happy birthday song off key. I wish we could have been together. I wish we could have talked about having another one, so that Will wouldn’t grow up alone. I wish a lot of things now, and it hurts. It fucking hurts.”

He wishes it too.

“You’d want another?” The question comes out, taking her off guard. She’d be lying if she hadn’t thought about it, another child with him is another miracle she doesn’t deserve. Instead, she takes her pills, and drowns them in water because bringing another life into their world would be careless and irresponsible.

“I would,” she finally admits.

“We could, Scully.”

“No,” she shakes her head, and swallows back tears. “We shouldn’t.” She has a million reasons why listed on the top of her tongue, but when she looks at him her mind goes blank. “I’d like another one, but I don’t deserve it.”

His chest ached at her admission. “I truly don’t deserve that kind of happiness, Mulder.”

Oh, Scully. You do. You deserve every kind of happiness. “Dana, you do.”

She looked at him, wide-eyed, ready to argue all the reasons why she didn’t when he puts a finger to her lips. “You deserve all the happiness in the world. You’ve saved me more times than I can count and the universe owes you in a tenfold.”

He can tell she isn’t convinced. She doesn’t say another word, and gets out of bed. Throwing her robe over her shoulders, she goes to the bathroom, and finds her pill. Popping it out of the pack, she holds it in her hands, and says a silent goodbye to the potentiality of any baby.


	17. As Real as it Gets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary:  
> An alternative version of season 8 where without Mulder... Scully has no idea what to do and runs.

She’d put in a transfer, and was reassigned to San Francisco, effective immediately. It was rash, impulsive and entirely out of character, but she was done with the X-Files and she was more than done with Washington DC. Even as a dead man, he haunted her everywhere. He was a ghost, and she was tired of grieving.

She had their son to think about. She refused to let the darkness swallow her whole. A clean break, is what she told herself as she released her apartment, packed up her belongings and drove.

She drove and drove and drove hoping to put as many miles between her and the past as possible. The entire time, she felt sporadic kicks and didn’t feel so alone.

But she was alone. Her other half was buried while her heart still beat on. She must have stopped twenty times, between DC and San Francisco, driving on highways that she had driven on with Mulder. This time the car wasn’t full of him entertaining her with stories of cryptids, or sunflower seeds. This time it was her and their son resting in her womb, while all she could feel was an overwhelming numbness. She didn’t say goodbye to the Gunmen, or even Agent Doggett. Goodbyes felt permanent.

So she’d just left.

It took her ten days, but as she pulled into her new apartment complex, just outside of San Francisco in Santa Rosa she felt like she could breathe a little easier.

She’d been given three weeks to relocate, and she intended to make the most of it. She’d sent her belongings ahead of time, and she was mostly moved in save for the things in the U-Haul attached to her car.

It was late, around 10, and her body was exhausted. The hotel beds that she had been sleeping on were not very comfortable. She cut the engine, and slowly made her way out of the car. Her body didn’t move as quick as it used to, and at eight months pregnant she was spent.

She finds apartment 24 easily, and takes out the keys. She unlocks the door, and steps inside. She finds the light switch and flips it on. It’s nothing like her old apartment, it’s white, sterile and airy. She finds her bedroom, where her room has already been set up and sinks into her bed and cries herself to sleep.

—

Her son is born on May twenty second and he’s absolutely beautiful. Her labor and delivery had been blissfully uneventful, which considering her pregnancy was a welcome change of pace. He was perfect. All ten fingers, ten toes, and a head of thick dark hair. When he blinked his eyes open, they were a brilliant blue, much like her own.

Her mother arrives a mere hour after she gives birth, and as she rushes into her hospital room, she’s grinning widely. She stops when she sees them. “Dana, he’s beautiful.”

“He is,” she agrees. “Do you want to hold him?”

She nods, and gently takes the baby cradling him in her arms.

“How are you feeling?”

“Sore, mostly but I’ll be fine. I’m beginning to realize why people do this more than once.” She looks at William, “He’s worth every second of it.”

Her mother nods, “What are you going to call him?”

“William," she says, meeting her mothers eyes . “After dad,” she pauses for a beat. “And Mulder.” She hadn’t spoken his name out loud in months, and her eyes started to water.

“Dad would like that,” her mother says smiling. “I know Fox would too.”

“Does he have a middle name?”

“Scully.”

Her mother raised and eyebrow, “He’s a Mulder then.”

“Yeah, he is.” The last one, she thinks, until he has kids of his own, someday.

—

She and William settle into a routine. He’s a very easy infant. He sleeps every two hours and eats every four. Being a mother comes easily to her, and she’s surprised. She isn’t anxious, except for the day she has to return to work, which is circled on her calendar in black marker. She might extend her maternity leave, use up some of the vacation and personal time she has saved up.

William is in the middle of nursing when the phone rings.

“Scully,” she clips, as William looks up at her.

“Agent Scully, it’s assistant director Skinner.”

Her body goes still. It has to be about Mulder. “Is there anyway you can get a flight to DC? It’s about Agent Mulder.”

Her breath hitches. “He’s alive.”

No it’s impossible. “Sir, that’s impossible. You were standing next to me at his funeral.”

“I know, I didn’t believe it until I saw him myself, but he is alive. He’s at DC general.”

She hangs up and books her and William on the next flight out. The baby sleeps for most of the flight, and only wakes up once to nurse. She is lucky, she knows this, and doesn’t take it for granted when the woman next to her compliments him.

She only came with her purse, and things for William, not even bothering to pack for herself. She hails a cab, and with the infant strapped to her chest, tells him to take her to DC General.

Skinner is there to meet her, and she has so many questions. “Is it true?” She needs it to be. Wants it to be. But then again, how?

“Slow down, Scully.”

“No. I want to see him,” she says raising her voice and startles a sleeping William.

“I know you do...”

“No, I need to see him, damn it! I flew for six hours with an infant because you said he was alive. I need fucking answers!”

“You're not going in there,” he says grabbing her arm stopping her. “Scully you can’t, not yet, I have to explain what happened...” he gestures to the empty chairs in the hallway. “Just let me explain.”

Reluctantly she nods and follows him over. “Okay, explain.”

“About a week ago, the body of Billy Miles was pulled out of the ocean...”

She hears his words as he goes into details but she’s not really listening. She is too impatient. Mulder is alive and breathing in the room 10 feet away from her. “Agent Scully, you have to understand he’s been through a great ordeal. He’s scarred from whatever tests had been done on him. He’s awake and breathing, but the doctors have no medical explanation except for the fact that it’s a miracle.”

“I thought all of those were used up,” she says, as he looks at her.

“Apparently not... go see him. Room 1013.”

She nods, and gets up. Her heart is racing and if she didn’t have the baby breathing against her skin, she would think this was a dream.

He’s sitting up, and stares at her as she walks in. He’s alive. “Hi,” she says smiling at him.

His expression is unreadable. His voice is scratchy as he croaks out, “Who are you?”

Her face falls, until he gives her a small smile. His eyes are warm and she knows he’s teasing her. She can’t hold back the tears streaming down her face, “Oh, my god. Don't do that to me.”

His eyes meet hers, and she could drown in him. She moves to his bedside, and he notices the baby strapped to her chest. He raises an eyebrow, “Um, when did you have a baby?”

She’d forgotten he was even there, he was being so quiet. “Oh, about two months ago,” she goes to undo the clips, and his hand reaches hers. He must have done the math. “He’s ours, isn’t he.” It isn’t a question, but his eyes shine, and she nods. She quickly undoes the clips, and turns the baby to face him, “This is William. William, this is your dad.”

He’s silent, taking him in and sees her in his eyes. He can make out the Mulder family nose and pointy chin. William kicks his legs, as she holds him against her, and smiles.

“Scully, he’s smiling at me.”

“He does that sometimes,” she says grinning and takes a breath. “Do you want to hold him?”

“Yes,” he says, and she gently places him in his arms. William doesn’t seem to mind, if anything, he’s content. “He likes you, and he’s pretty picky about who he will let hold him. He actually screamed when Bill tried.”

“You’ve got good taste little buddy,” he laughs, tracing his hand over the baby’s cheek. Her eyes water, she never in a million years think she’d get to witness this moment. “Scully?”

“Hmm?”

“This is real, right?” She places a soft kiss on his lips, and suddenly he deepens it. Her mouth opens, remembering how they do this. She finally pulls away, “As real as it gets, Mulder.”


	18. Meeting the Girlfriend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on a prompt via Tumblr: Mulder is Emily's single dad, and so he meets Scully and can there be a little jealousy on Emily's part?

“Dad, really?”

Ten year old Emily was not having it. Her hands were on her hips and she was glaring at her father. If looks could kill, he’d be a dead man. She, especially, did not want his work partner, Agent Scully, coming over. It was their pizza and movie night, a Friday night tradition, for as long as she could remember.

“You’ll like her,” he promises and kisses her forehead. “Just give her a chance.”

She rolls her eyes. Sure. A chance. Her eyes widened, as realization flashed through her. She knew her dad dated, but he’d never brought anyone back home before. “Is she your girlfriend!?!” Ever perceptive, she knew she hit the nail on the head. “Dad!”

“She’s a good person, Emily…” her dad tried to explain, but gets flustered. The rest of the conversation was put on pause because someone knocks. His girlfriend, she thinks, bitterly.

She’s too busy fuming, as her dad opens the door. A petite redhead grins up at her father. Emily makes a face, not even trying to hide her emotions.

Hi,” the woman says, and turns to look at her. She was dressed casually in jeans and a sweater. Emily makes reluctant eye contact and keeps her face still. She is wary of this woman, even though her first impression is that she’s very pretty, she does not like the way she keeps looking at her dad. It was just gross.

“Hey,” her dad says, and motions for her to come over. “This is my daughter Emily.”

The red head walks over to her, and offers her hand. “Hi, I’m Dana. I’ve heard so much about you.”

She takes it tentatively. “I thought you were Scully?”

“That’s my last name,” she laughs. “We have a habit of going by last names at work.”

Her dislike for her weakens, a little bit. She likes that Dana doesn’t treat her like a little kid. “So, I know it’s movie and pizza night with your dad, and I think it’s pretty cool that your letting me crash it.”

She shrugs and looks at her dad as if to say ‘I had no choice’. “It’s dad’s pick tonight, so be prepared for something sci-fi or a comedy.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Dana laughs.

“Em, don’t you have homework to finish?” Her dad cuts in. She glares at him. “I’m almost done, but I have to finish a few math problems.”

“Need any help?” Dana offers. “I love math.”

She raises an eyebrow, “I guess, let me go get my worksheet.” She rushes into her room, and finds it on her desk where she left it, and just as she’s about to head into the kitchen, she sees her dad and Dana standing very close to one another, and her eyes widen as they kiss. She can hear them whispering, but she clears her throat and they jump apart like they’ve been electrocuted. She raises an eyebrow but doesn’t comment… yet.

“It’s word problems,” she says, putting the sheet on the counter, and settles herself on a chair. “I hate word problems.”

“Okay,” Dana says, taking the seat next to her. “The trick, I’ve learned is that you have to break it down into more manageable parts. They also like to add a lot of sentences that don’t actually matter to what the question actually is.”

She looks at her, “You know, that actually makes sense.”

Before she knows it, Dana has helped her with her last two problems and the pizza comes. Her dad is in the middle of setting the table in the living room, and before she puts her pencil down she looks at Dana, “Thanks for helping.”

“No worries,” she says with a grin.

“So, um, my dad didn’t answer a question I had earlier, so maybe you can.” Dana raises an eyebrow, “Okay, I can try.”’

“Are you his girlfriend?”

Dana turns fifty shades of crimson. “Um, well… we’ve been seeing one another.”

“Listen, I’m ten, and I’m not blind. I see how you two look at one another it’s like all goo eyed.”

She laughs nervously. “Okay, Emily, to put it plainly, yes, I’m your dad’s girlfriend,” she pauses, “are you okay with that?”

“I’m still trying to figure that out. It’s been just dad and I forever.”

Dana nods, she suspects she knows this already. Her mother left when she was an infant, so her memories of her only what her dad tells her, which isn’t much. “You and your dad are very close, which I understand because my dad and I are too.”

She raises an eyebrow, “Really?”

“Yeah, my dad has a nickname for me and I’m the only one out of all my siblings that have one.”

“That’s cool. What it is it?”

“Starbuck, you know, from Moby Dick.”

Emily shakes her head. “I’ve never heard of it.”

“Oh, well, then your dad is slacking on your reading material.”

She laughs, “My dads idea of reading material are the X-Files.”

Dana smiles. “That’s not very good bedtime reading either. Remind me to bring you my copy so you can read it. Maybe you can even get your dad to read it to you.”

Emily nods. Maybe her dad was right. She was beginning to see why her dad liked her, not that she’d tell him that.


	19. Gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happened when Scully thought Mulder was dead?

AN: Watched season 8, and had my gut ripped out.

“You’re fourteen weeks, you’re going to start showing soon.”  
Right. She knew that cognitively. She had even heard the heartbeat, and seen it with her own eyes on the monitor and yet, it still didn’t feel real.

She was the same, except her pants were tighter, her chest was larger, and her emotions were more powerful. She had proof, and yet she still needed more.

Everything was still such a mess. He was still missing. She was still reeling, and her life felt remarkably different.

She had stared at the phone, for a incredibly long time until she dialed. Hoping she would catch the machine, she was surprised when she answered. “Hello?”

“Hi, mom it’s me.” She felt relieved and terrified at the same time.

“Dana, what’s wrong? Is this about Fox?” Her mother always knew. Always.

Everything, she wants to say. “Nothing is wrong, Mom,” she says, shakily. “It’s just...” this was so hard to say, “I’m pregnant.”

She hears a noise and swears her mother drops the phone. “Mom, are you still there?”

“I’m here,” she finally says. “You’re pregnant?”

“Fourteen weeks, actually.”

A beat. “But how? You told me you couldn’t have children.”

She sighs. “I honestly don’t know. It happened the normal way...” she’s blushing, talking about this is making her extremely uncomfortable.

Her mother doesn’t pry, and instead says, “I know how much you wanted this, and I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you,” she says sincerely, it’s such a relief to finally get this off her chest. Suddenly, by sharing it, it makes it a little more real.

At fifteen weeks, she’s showing. Literally overnight. When she looks at her reflection, she sees the gentle swell of her abdomen. It’s there. It’s making its appearance known.

Her hands touch her stomach, tentatively, and it feels hard. It feels strange. She wondered what she would look like, and now as she stares at herself, she wishes he were here to experience it with her. He’d probably tease her, and kiss her belly, while talking softly too it about nothing and everything. It makes her teary to think about, and she stuffs the tears down while she resolutely goes to her closet and finds something to wear. She never thought that the day she says goodbye to him, is the same day their child would say hello.

At sixteen weeks, she’s used some paid vacation days. It was too much after the funeral, and she just needs some time to process. She needs to grieve in the safety of her apartment. She hadn’t done much, in regards to preparing for the baby. If she’s honest the only thing she has is a tiny bunny hat, she bought on a whim one day thinking she could be pregnant, when they were trying IVF.

She had kept it in the back of her closet, and hadn’t dared to throw it out. She’d gotten her miracle, but it came with a price: Mulder.

After spending the first couple of days sobbing and barely getting out of bed, the third day is a revelation. She goes to his apartment, armed with cleaning supplies and scrubs everything until her knuckles bleed. The only room she doesn’t touch is his, she doesn’t want it to smell of bleach, she wants it to smell of him. She’s keeping his apartment.

On the fourth day, she calls her mother who is more than happy to take her shopping. She needs clothes- her pants no longer fit- and she is tired of being alone.

After shopping for her, her mother manages to convince her to go into a baby store.

“Dana, you need to start getting things.”  
Well, she had no idea where to even begin. The store was quiet, as she wandered through the assortment of cribs, changing tables, and clothes. It was all so intimidating.

Her mother was cheerful and commenting on things she’d need, completely oblivious to the thoughts in her head. She wished Mulder was next to her, instead of being five feet underground. His death is still raw, and the grief hits her in waves. She hadn’t realized she was crying until she felt her mother put a hand on her shoulder. She doesn’t say anything, and doesn’t need to as she walks toward the exit.

At seventeen weeks, she’s back to work. She needs some routine back in her life, and Doggett is too friendly as she says hello. The look on his face is one of pity. She can’t stand it and goes upstairs, which turns out to be an even worse idea.

She can see the looks, feels the stares and even hears the whispers as her heels click in the hallway.

Did you see Agent Scully? She’s pregnant.  
I wonder if her dead partner is the father.  
I heard they’d been sleeping together for years...  
They’d been water cooler gossip for years. She’d even heard about a betting pool as to when they’d get together. She paid no attention to it, because they had no idea. They didn’t know Jack-Shit about their relationship.

It’s too much. It’s all too much. She has a panic attack once she makes it back inside the elevator.

In. Out. In. Out.

The baby kicks for the first time. As if he or she is telling her she’s got this...

She doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry, as she clutches her stomach, and feels it again.

At eighteen weeks, she learns it is a boy. A son. Her life is probably going to be filled with baseball games, legos and skinned knees. She knows absolutely nothing about raising a boy, and it’s going to be a steep learning curve. But, she knows she can handle it. For the first time, she imagines what he will look like. Will he favor her genetics or his? Or will he be a combination. For some reason, she hopes he has his eyes.

“Dana, do you want a picture?”

She nods, “Two, please.”

She hides one in an envelope in her closet, and the other she keeps behind her badge. She likes knowing it’s there.

At nineteen weeks, she’s now visibly pregnant, there’s no hiding it anymore, not that she wants to. She can’t wait to meet her son. He is still a secret, even though her mother is persistent in her questioning, trying to make her spill the gender. That was not going to happen.

The only person in the world she would share that news with was gone.

At twenty weeks, she’s at the halfway mark. It makes her both sad, and excited. She’s that much closer to holding him in her arms.

At twenty one weeks, she dreams of a boy on the beach who looks remarkably like Mulder. They are building sandcastles and he’s called William. When she wakes up, he kicks her hard. Her sons name is going to be William.

At twenty two weeks, the grief hits her like a tsunami and she can’t get out of bed. She calls Skinner and is allowed the whole week off for personal reasons.

At twenty three weeks, she finishes his nursery. Her mother brings her a gift, it’s a star mobile to hang above his crib. It’s perfect.

At twenty four weeks, she’s six months along and she baby proofs the apartment in the middle of the night because she couldn’t sleep.

At twenty five weeks, she has lunch with her mother. Her mother peppers her with questions about names and gender, but she carefully steers the conversation to more neutral topics. She’s in the middle of talking about the latest case she’s on, when she winces. It’s a Braxton Hicks contraction. When her mother asks her how she’s doing, she responds with a quick, I’m fine and gives her a small smile. She’s anything but fine.

At twenty six weeks, sleep is an anomaly. She finally sympathizes with Mulder, and his insomnia. Her mind spins and spins like she’s on a carnival ride.

At twenty seven weeks, she wakes up with nightmares about Mulder. She has to pinch herself to remind her that he’s dead.

At twenty eight weeks, she’s called to the hospital. He’s alive. Like Jesus, he’s been resurrected, and she feels an overwhelming sense of hope.


	21. The first time they kissed

The first time they kissed it was a Tuesday and she was in a particularly bad mood.

If she were being honest, all she wanted to do was go home, shower and wash the day off her body. It was another gross, disgusting case in the middle of nowhere America. Another Podunk town, and goose chase. The motels were a becoming a blur and truthfully she missed her own bed.

“Scully are you even listening to a single word I just said?”

She turned around and looked at him. Really looked at him. His white button down was caked with mud, he had some sort of gooey unidentifiable substance on his upper left arm. Her eyes lingered a little too long on his bicep. Fox Mulder should not be allowed to wear tight shirts.

“Mhm,” she nodded, a little too quickly. Just glad he couldn’t read her thoughts.

He chucked. They fell inches away from one another when they finally made it up the hallway.

He was in room 206. She was room 208, and directly across the hall.

“Okay, well, I guess I should go get cleaned up.”

She didn’t make a move because she was rooted to the floor. Her heels were anchored to the musty smelling carpet. He had a bemused expression on his face; In a split second, she turned away heading towards her room when his hand stopped her. He pulled her closer, inches away from his face, and kissed her.

She barely comprehend what was happening and for once, her mind was silent. She allowed herself to feel. His lips were soft and gentle against hers. She leaned in, deepening the kiss.

Suddenly, six years of pent up sexual angst went from a spark to a blaze.

She parted her lips allowing his tongue access. He explored her mouth, as their tongues danced, exploring foreign territory. His hand slipped lower, crossing the casual friend line.

Deftly, he managed to open the door to his room. She clearly hadn’t noticed and let him lead her, allowing him to take control.

For the moment, she didn’t care about her gross clothes, or exhaustion.

She cared only about the man who was the only person to ever make her feel safe.


	22. What if they got William back?

They were somewhere in the middle of Wyoming, when he pulled off the interstate. It wasn’t surprising. The back roads, he said, were safer. After months of driving with no destination, endless nights spent in hotel rooms, and avoiding painful conversations she was tired.

She had him, but the price she paid left her with an emptiness that could never be filled.

“Scully, keep an eye open for Tanner street.”

Her curiosity was piqued. “Tanner street?”

Mulder nods, and keeps his hands clutched on the steering wheel. His knuckles are almost white, and she knows, he’s up to something. After years of being in cars, just like this one, he has his tells. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see, Scully, you’ll see.”

When they pull up to a white Farmhouse, as dusk begins to settle, she is wary. He puts a hand on her knee, “I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Mulder-“

He’s already opened the door and making his way up the driveway. She tries to catalog his behavior in the last week, but she can’t think of anything out of the ordinary except for last night.

Last night, he’d been positively giddy since returning from the five and dime store, picking up a few groceries. He even attempted to cook, in the kitchenette of their motel room, which ended in him getting a small burn on his thumb.

It was the first night they didn’t fuck, but made love.

When he comes out of the house, he’s holding a baby. She wants to get out, but her body freezes. It can’t be? She doesn’t dare hope.

He’s smiling widely, and makes his way over to her side of the door. When he opens it, she finally finds her arms and holds them out.

It’s William.

It’s William.

She’s engulfed by the smells of baby shampoo and the warmth of his tiny body. He’s heavier than she remembers, and his wispy red baby hairs are now a shade of auburn. When his bright blue eyes find hers, he smiles as if he remembers and reaches out to grasp a piece of her hair.

“He knows his mother.”

The truth of that statement brings her to tears. She makes silent promises to never let him go, ever again. “I’m so sorry,” she chokes out, between sobs. She can’t even begin to describe how sorry she truly is, it’s a blanket apology to Mulder and to the confused nine month old, sitting in her lap. He blinks up at her and touches her cheek.

“It’s okay, Will, I’m okay.” In all honesty, she’s better than okay. She’s finally whole again.

She holds onto Will, as he backs out of the driveway, as carefully as he can, still not believing that he’s really in her arms.

Mulder drives more cautiously than ever, and when they find a Walmart, he pulls into the parking lot.

To any observer, they’re just a normal family. To them, this is monumental.

Will is quiet in her arms, as they go through the aisles, getting necessities. The baby aisle is first. He has nothing but the blanket he’s wrapped in and the clothes on his back. She finds onesies, diapers, a two pack of binkies, wipes, bottles, and formula. Mulder is surveying the car seat options, and once Will sees him, he holds his arms out. “Someone wants you,” she says, as he turns around. He grins and takes him out of her arms, “Hey, Will, which one?”

He smiles in response. It’s so adorable, she feels new tears prick at her eyes. Dana Scully has been reduced to an emotional mess, while staring at her two boys, it should be a headline, she thinks, as she observes the two of them together. A scene she’d only hope to witness.

“Scully, is there anything else we need?” He asks, pulling her back into the present.

She shakes her head no. “We can always make another stop if we forget something.”

Once they’re back to the motel room, she settles Will on the bed. He fell asleep in his new car seat and slept soundly as she had gotten him out.

The room is quiet, save for his baby snores and the first thing she does is take a breath. One she hadn’t realized she was holding. He comes to her, and she puts her face in his chest. The familiarity of his scent settles her. Grounds her.

When she finally pulls away, he’s crying too. “How is this…”

“I contested the adoption after Skinner told me. I never relinquished my parental rights.”

She's so very thankful she handed him that sign to form in the hospital. The declaration of paternity form was commonplace after birth, but they’d never talked about it. Everything prior to that was such a mess. He was an asshole back from the dead, and she was seven months pregnant.

“I want this, Scully. You, me and Will.” He said it with such reverence, it took her off guard. “I know it’s all screwed up, with me being a fugitive and us on the run but…”

She silences him with a kiss. The life she left behind was depressing. She didn’t have her son. She didn’t have him. She was a shadow of her former self and everyday was a struggle. She could pretend that she was fine, that she was dealing, but only her mother could see the pain written on her face.

He pulls her closer, and deepens the kiss. She could stay like this in his arms, with his lips on hers forever, but Will has other plans.

She pulls away, and he grumbles something about how bad the timing is, and she can’t help but laugh.

Even their son has a knack for bad timing, she muses, picking him up off the bed. He quiets, as soon as he settles into her arms, and she can’t help but stare at him again. He’s so much like her and Mulder, there’s no denying his parentage. “Scully?”

She turns, and looks up at him. He found the container of formula, and he’s already got a clean bottle out of the package. “How much of this stuff does he need?”

It’s adorable how out of his element he is, and she can’t help but grin. “Did you bother to read the directions?”

He shakes his head, “There’s directions on this thing?”

“It’s formula, Mulder. You’re not dismantling a bomb.”

“I wasn’t good at that either,” he quips, as she hands him the baby. She adds the powder and water, and heats the bottle in warm water, remembering all the times she’d done this before. Before his adoption, she’d been in the process of slowly weaning him so that she could take more hours, and adding formula.

The thought stings a bit, but isn’t as heavy as it would have been. “Here,” she says, after testing the temp on her forearm, and handing him the bottle. He looks at her almost incredulously. “I don’t know how to do this.”

“Angle it to his mouth and he’ll most likely take it immediately. If he doesn’t I got a pack of other nipples, we can try.”

Will takes it immediately. “Wasn’t so hard?”

“Nope,” he looks at her, “not at all. Was he always this easy?”

She chuckles, “No, he wasn’t. As a newborn, he barely slept, had the hardest time latching and a bad case of colic. He was better after two months,” she continued, remembering how difficult those first weeks were, especially doing it alone. She was the epitome of a nervous first time mother, and she knew that he had picked up on it. “But it did get easier.” She pauses and looks up down at Will whose eyes were fluttering closed, “Did we get him a portable crib?”

“Uh, I don’t think so…”

Mulder speak for no. “OK, so, co-sleeping it is then.”

His eyes widened. “He’ll sleep like that?”

“He’s done it before.” When you were gone, she doesn’t add. The baby sleeping next to her, on his side, was the only thing that made her feel less alone. “You just have to make him a barrier and he’s good.”

Hours later, they’ve settled into some kind of rhythm, catering to Williams needs. It’s so domestic, even with the terrible lighting, scratchy motel carpet, and fact that they are essentially homeless fugitives, she’s never been so content in her entire life. This, right now, is pure happiness.

Will is sound asleep between them, and she still can’t fathom how, or why but she pushes those questions aside and lets herself enjoy the moment. “Mulder,” she whispers, as his eyes begin to close, “thank you.” She lets herself fall asleep, and for the first time in weeks, she doesn’t feel any sense of regret.


	23. Office Sex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Office Smut, because we all know they did it at least once...

She was a renaissance painting, a ethereal beauty, unworthy of him, or anyone. Yet, she was sleeping soundly, in his bed with her leg furled around him, and a soft smile on her face. She was blissfully unbothered when she slept, and vulnerable. He knew what the world saw: a cold professional woman taking on the boys club commanding attention and a force to be reckoned with. They would be right, except that was just one facet of her personality.

The way she laughed, well, he wished he could bottle it. If he could, he’d spend the rest of his life making her laugh. In the seven years of their partnership, she’d grown up. She had been hardened by the realities of the work, and yet she didn’t give up. She didn’t leave when he wanted her too. He knew even when asking he’d wanted her to selfishly stay. He knew, without a doubt, that he would do anything for her, and she for him. It was unspoken, yet proven time and time again.

He draped his arm around her, and when he thought she’d wake up, she positioned herself even closer to him. Like a magnet, even in sleep.

He wasn’t surprised that his bed had been empty, but it was another unspoken thing between them. Whatever they were doing, when she’d invited him in-into her heart, into her bed- had been on her terms. She set the pace, and he wasn’t in any hurry; although, he would marry her tomorrow.

She was it for him. Always.

When he saw her, sitting in his seat with her glasses perched over her nose, he cracked a smile. “Agent Scully.”

She rolled her eyes, and put the file down. “Agent Mulder,” she said pointedly, “we have a meeting with Skinner about a case in twenty-minutes.”

He nods, and takes the chair opposite of her. He puts his feet on the desk, contemplating the different angle, and put his hands behind his head. “I don’t remember when that was taken.”

He was referring to the one picture of the two of them, hung by a newspaper clipping. They weren’t looking at the camera. Someone had taken it at the crime scene years ago. Their bodies were completely in sync and their backs were to the lens. “I don’t either.”

“We don’t have a lot of pictures together, do we?”

“Considering we spend a significant amount of time together in places that don’t require cameras, I suppose we wouldn’t.”

He quirks a grin at her, “The woods aren’t conducive to good lighting, are they?”

“No, definitely not.” She’s biting her lip in the way she knows drives him crazy. It’s unfair really, what she can do to him with just a simple gesture. He puts his feet off the desk, and crosses his legs. She’s got him, hook line and sinker. Her eyes are hooded with lust, and she knows he can feel it between them.

“Mulder, did you happen to lock the door?”

Message received loud and clear, Agent Scully.

He looks at his watch. They have about seventeen minutes to kill and before he knows it, she’s crossed the desk and straddles his lap. He isn’t used to this version of her- the sexually charged, wanton and reckless version- and he likes it.

When he slides his hands up her skirt, he pauses, “You’re not wearing any underwear.”

“When I got dressed this morning, it seems that they were missing.”

He swallows, “Well, your black lace panties are in my coat pocket.”

She huffs a laugh, “Of course they are.”

He’s had this fantasy before, sex in the office, but the reality is becoming so much better when she begins to unbutton her shirt. He watches her, ever the voyeur, as she teases him touching chest. “Scully…”

He’s hard, which isn’t surprising, considering what she does to him on a daily basis. While she works on his belt, she kisses him full of passion. Ever the multitask-er when it counts. His hands slip further up her thigh and soon he finds her soaking. God damn.

She isn’t embarrassed, and when she finally manages to release him, she eases herself into him, thankful that the chairs are arm less. She knows if she moves fast, he’ll come quickly, but he grabs her hips. “Take your time.”

It’s all the permission she needs to go slow, tantalizingly slow, and it’s never enough. The feeling of him fully inside her, is something she’ll never tire of. This position is her favorite. Watching him come undone, is a weakness of hers.

She’s close too, and when he starts gyrating his hips to her- cluing her into the fact that he’s almost there- the rapid onslaught of pleasure catches her off guard. “My god, Mulder.”

“Not god, just Mulder,” he quips, with a glint in his eye.

It’s only 9:25 and the day has just started. The office, smells like sex, and they both don’t care. She gently slides off him, and straightens her skirt. Her hair is mused, her lips are red and swollen, and her shirt is still unbuttoned. “I’ll be right back.”

“Your panties are in my coat,” he reminds her. There is no way she’s going into a meeting sans underwear with their boss, not if he can help it. She grins, and goes to his coat. She finds her panties in his pocket and laughs.

When she returns five minutes later, without a hair out of place, and the evidence visually gone from their encounter, he sees her slip into Special Agent Mode. “Grab that report, Mulder. We’re going to be late.”

She continues to leave him reeling. “And yes, I’m wearing my underwear. I’m not opposed to you doing an investigation later…”

God, it was going to be a long day.


	24. How to Co-Parent when your still in love with Scully

It was technically, her night. Monday through Wednesday’s were his, Thursday through Saturdays were hers, and they alternated every other Sunday. It wasn’t perfect, but they had made it work so far. When she called and asked if he would take Will on Friday instead, he was slightly suspicious, and asked if everything was okay. She said it was, and it would be a favor.

He hadn’t expected her to answer the door in a slinky black dress and four inch heels, with William on her hip clad in his space pajamas.

“Hi,” she says slightly flustered, “you’re early.”

William holds up his hands to his father. “Daddy!”

He takes the little boy from her arms and he settles against him. “His bag is packed and he’s all set to go,” she says as she grabs it off the counter.

He knows she is rushing him out, but he can’t take his eyes off her. She is absolutely stunning, and it takes his breath away. “So, Scully, where are you going?” He asks, as she hands him the bag.

“I have a date,” she answers, giving Will a kiss on his cheek. She leaves a red lipstick stain and rubs it off, gently with her thumbs. “He’s been fed and changed about an hour ago, so your in the clear until he has to go to bed.” She isn’t looking a him, “Will, be good for dad, okay?”

Her two year old nods and smiles.

“Come on, Scully, you know he’s an angel.”

“Well, our angel was a real little demon today. He bit a girl at preschool,” she says, tiredly.

“Will, you don’t bite people.”

“Don’t worry, we had a long talk about it and he knows his teeth are for biting food not our friends on the playground.”

Mulder chuckles, thinking how ironic that was because he happens to know that Scully was also a bit of a biter in bed. “So, is this a first date, Scully, because you look way to good for just a regular date.”

She blushes, “No, actually, it’s the third.”

He knows what the third date means, and if her dress was any indication she would definitely be getting some action. He suddenly felt very, very jealous of this mystery man, and slightly turned on. “Well, we should leave you to it then.”

“Okay, bye baby,” she says softly ruffling Wills hair. “I’ll see you tomorrow when I pick you up, okay?”

Will nods, and she looks at him. “Thank you for agreeing to switch days. I appreciate it.”

“No worries, it wasn’t like I had plans other then work.” She nods, and walks them to the door. Once she shuts the door, he can hear her heels on the hardwood clip away. With the sound of each click, his heart sinks a little deeper.

Will was a sound sleeper, and out like a light at nine. A trait he had inherited from his mother, of course, considering his own insomniac ways. He was tempted to call her to tell her something work related had come up and she’d have to pick up Will. He was tempted. Very tempted. The idea of some other man with his hands on her body, kissing her, was driving him mad. He still loved her, even if he had a shitty way of showing it.

After he returned to the living, they never got back to where they were before. He was emotionally closed off, and she had been distant. Cold. He didn’t blame her and much of his early behavior was flippant and rude. He just had no idea what to think, or how he fit into her life. It had been uncomfortable, for a while, and even after Will was born, they fought a lot. Words were said, and insults were slung like grenades. Eventually, the dust settled, and they both decided that whatever personal relationship they had was done, and now they had to just put aside their differences for Will. There was just too much hurt, between them to fix it.

It took time, but lately, they were getting close again. She’d let him come over and read Will a bedtime story after work, and they’d watch some old movie on television. Or she would show up on a Sunday, when it was technically her day, and ask if he wanted to go to the park with them. It was small olive branches, and he appreciated every single one.

When he finally fell asleep, he dreamed of her. It was a vivid, lucid dream of her in that little black dress...

“Mulder?” She says, forcefully. He blinks his eyes open, confused. “Scully?” Her arms are folded over her chest, and she’s in jeans and t-shirt. A small smile plays on her lips. “A minute ago I was, oh, Scully,” she purrs. “Was I any good?” She teases, relishing the fact that he’s beat red in embarrassment.

“You’ve always been good, Scully,” he quips, as he stands up. He cracks his back. “You really shouldn’t be sleeping on that couch.”

“Is that your way of calling me old?”

“Yes, it is,” she says in a playful mood. “For the record, I tried calling you before using my key, but your phone was off the hook and you didn’t answer your cell.”

He pulls out his phone, and grimaces. Sure enough it’s dead. He looks at his watch, and it’s barely seven. “Shouldn’t you still be on your date?” He is only half joking when he asks her.

“Last minute surgery, he had to cancel.” He was a surgeon then, he thinks, as the aroma of coffee and baked goods hits his nose. She brought breakfast too. “Sorry to hear that.” He’s not sorry at all, in fact, he’s relieved.

“Don’t be, it was fine. I took a long hot bath and drank three glasses of wine. I also managed to sleep, so there’s that.”

“How was Will?”

“He only woke up at two and then went back to sleep. So, I’d say he will be in a relatively good mood.”

“Hopefully,” she says, “I’m going to go wake him.”

“Good luck,” he adds, knowing how much a bear Will can be if he doesn’t wake up naturally. Ten minutes later, Will toddles into the kitchen, changed into his clothes for the day. He’s got a case of bed head and she is not far behind him. “Mulder, can you grab him?”

He scoops him up and places him on the counter. He holds him, as Will reaches for the paper bag. “That’s for him anyway,” she says as he pulls out a bagel. If goes directly to his mouth, and he starts to bite it. “There’s one in there for you too.” She threads her fingers gingerly through Wills hair, trying to fix it.

The toddler is too busy trying to eat the bagel whole that, he’s not even putting up a fight. “My mother wants to know if your coming for Christmas this year.” Christmas was only two weeks away, and to be honest, he hadn’t thought that far ahead.

“That’s up to you Scully,” as it was every year. Last year, he hadn’t gotten an invitation. They weren’t in a good place. “I mean, I’m not opposed to it.”

She picks up Will, and he wraps his legs around her waist. It’s not a direct yes or no. It’s open ended and she’s leaving it up to him. “Tell her I’ll come.”

“Okay,” she says, reaching for her and Wills jackets. “I’ll tell her. I’ll see you tomorrow?” She asks, as she helps Will into his coat. She slides her own coat over her shoulder and picks up his overnight bag that was on the counter. “Hey Scully,” he says stopping her. “Thank you for the invitation.”

She gives him a small smile, and takes Wills hand in hers.

He spends the rest of the day thinking about her. He tries to run his body to the point of exhaustion but it doesn’t work. He even tries to numb himself by heading down to the watering hole near his apartment, and that doesn’t work either. He’s feeling particularly sorry for himself, and slightly intoxicated as he lets himself into his apartment.

Scully. Scully. Scully.  
She was under his skin. In his mind. Fucking everywhere. He’d fallen in love with her all over again, and he needed to tell her. He’d spend the rest of his life making it up to her.

He wonders if she’ll answer, but picks up on the first ring. “Mulder, why are you calling so late? Are you okay?”

The beauty of caller ID, he thinks, as his brain begins to clear. “I... just wanted to hear your voice.”

“Mulder, are you drunk?”

“A little.”

There’s a pause, and he hopes she doesn’t hang up. “I was an idiot, Scully.” He can tell she’s listening, because she doesn’t disagree. “I am still in love with you, and I try not to be.”

“Mulder...” she croaks.

“No, let me finish. I want you. I want to wake up next to you every morning, and put Will to bed together every night. I know an apology is useless, and we can’t erase the past. As much as I wish we could, but I want to try. I want to show you that I can do better for you. When I saw you in that little black dress getting ready to go on a date something clicked, Scully. It should be me, not some other guy. Me.”

It’s too quiet. “Are you there?”

“I’m here,” she says, softly. He’s waiting, breathless for some kind of response. “Call me in the morning, Mulder, if you remember having this conversation we can continue it,” she says before hanging up.

He hits end, and collapses on his couch falling to sleep with a smile on his face.

She hadn’t slept after his midnight confession. It was everything she’d ever hoped he’d tell her, but she wasn’t sure if he would remember it. Last time, she’d made the first move. She’d been the one to confess what she felt about him before they fell into bed together. She loved him too, which is why, recently she started dating: to forget him.

The first time, it was a blind date set up by her mother. He was nice, but that was it. There was no second date.

The second time she tried dating, she’d met Rob at the hospital when she gone to sign for autopsy results. They literally ran into one another, and he’d offered to by her coffee. He was very handsome, sweet, and they had a lot in common: both were single parents.

He’d asked her out again, and they had dinner. It was a fancy restaurant downtown, and she’d actually enjoyed herself and the company. He’d kissed her soundly on the mouth, and she’d felt something different, but couldn’t stop thinking about Mulder. When he’d asked her out again, she’d said yes. She went shopping and found a dress that she knew would drive any man wild. All she could think about when she handed her credit card to the sales associate, was what Mulders reaction would be if he saw her in it.

She definitely wasn’t disappointed when he did see her in it. His jaw had dropped and she could see the desire written all over his face. She knew she looked good, she’d spent over an hour getting ready, and with a two year old that was no easy feat. Once he’d left, she called Rob, and decided to cancel. It wasn’t him, it was her. The man she really wanted had just left her apartment with their son on his shoulder.

At promptly seven AM, she hears a knock on her door. She’s in a state of half sleep, as she throws her robe over her silk pajamas. She checks the peephole, and it’s him.

She quickly undoes the latch and unlocks the door. She’s smiling and as soon as she sees him he captures his lips on hers. It’s not a gentle kiss, it’s one full of passion and it leaves her breathless. She pins him against the door, and he picks her up, and she wraps her legs around him. Its hot, heavy, and soon she’s moaning in his mouth. “Christ, Scully...” he groans, as she pulls away, with a grin.

“I take it you remembered, our conversation last night...”

“A drunken mind, speaks a sober heart.”

She leans her head against his, and their foreheads touch. “I never stopped loving you either.”

“God, we’re such idiots,” he laughs, and she smirks. “It did take us seven years to get together the first time so it shouldn’t come to a complete shock,” she quips, just as they hear Will crying. “And that’s my cue,” she says, as he puts her down. He nods, as she makes her way into William’s room.

“Mama!” He cries, as soon as he sees her. He stands up in his crib, and reaches for her. “Hi Will,” she says, picking him up. “Let’s go see daddy.”

“Daddy’s here?”

“Yeah, he’s in the kitchen.”

“Daddy stay?”

She kisses the top of his head. “Yeah, he is going to stay.”


	25. What if...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An AU where the IVF took

An: AU where the IVF took.

Her heart was hammering out of her chest, like a wrecking ball, and she was utterly unprepared for him to be in the dark at her apartment.

Things were not copacetic between them, and a wedge had been driven between the form of an ex-wife: Diana Fowley. He hadn’t been forthcoming since the beginning when the brunette vixen sauntered into their lives setting her sights on him. She had to find out from his friends who she was and that stung. The woman who found the x-files with him, and his former partner... former wife. The last one undoubtedly hurt the most.

He was sound asleep on her couch, when she opened the door. She mentioned that she had an appointment in passing, but she didn’t think he’d actually remembered.

“Mulder?”

His hair is mused from sleep and he sits up like a jack rabbit. “Sorry, I fell asleep waiting for you.” He rubs his eyes, as the distance between them stretches like a rubber band. “How’d it go?”

She swallows. She can’t believe it. It’s almost too good to be true, and yet the timing is terrible. It couldn’t be worse when things are so tense between the two of them.

When she’d asked him for a donation they’d been good -too good- which should have been a sign that it would all go to shit soon. God forbid, they get a modicum of happiness together.

“Um, it took,” she says, still in disbelief. “I’m pregnant.” Her eyes are watery, and his face breaks out into a grin. She’d never expected to ever utter those words. A last chance became a miracle.

His arms are soon enveloping her, and she leans into him. She fits perfectly underneath his chin, and for one brief moment, the negativity between them has completely evaporated.

He pulls way and touches her cheek. “I’m so happy for you.”

You. Not us. They hadn’t talked about what it would mean, because neither of them expected it to actually work- 0.02% chance her OBGYN had said- but she hoped he’d want to be involved in some capacity. Then again, she’d asked him for a donation, a clinical term, instead of father.

She looks at him and recoils as if she’s been burned. “I am really tired, Mulder.” She hopes he gets the hint, and nods. “Right, uh, sure. I’ll see you tomorrow at the airport?”

“7 AM,” she says, which reminds her that she really has to pack. He lets go of her hand, and grabs his jacket off her counter. “Dana,” he begins as his hand reaches for the door knob. “I really am happy. I know this is something you wanted.”

She can’t breathe and watches him go. It’s like another nail in her coffin, and once he’s gone she collapses into a puddle of tears.

xxx

When she gets violently ill, she knows this isn’t just your typical morning sickness. This was chronic nausea and she can’t afford anymore sick leave. It’s been strange between them. He’s been carefully normal, and almost agreeable, which is driving her up a wall.

When he shows up at her apartment, armed with chicken soup and ginger ale, she runs to the bathroom.

After wiping her mouth, and brushing her teeth, he looks at her full of concern. “Scully, I don’t think this is normal. Have you gotten yourself checked out?”

She pauses, steadying herself against the countertop, as another wave washes over her. It’s not normal and she just found out why, that morning.

She doesn’t know how to tell him, but like a band-aid she just rips it off. “It’s normal for a twin pregnancy, Mulder.”

His jaw drops. His eyes scan her body, and go immediately to her abdomen. For eight weeks along, she has a definite small bump underneath her thin cotton t-shirt.

She sighs, and his eyes search his face. “You’re serious?”

“They implanted four embryos and two took. Given my age in relation to this pregnancy and the fertility drugs... it just happened.” Multiples in IVF were common, she just hadn’t thought it would happen to her.

Now, he looks like he’s about to pass out. “Two?”

“They’re fine. Very strong heartbeats,” she added, as he continued to stare at her.

“You’re okay?”

She’s contemplating, bites her lip. “I’m processing,” she answers honestly. When they first told her, her initial reaction was the exact same: complete and utter shock. Until, she heard the two strong and steady heartbeats. She wanted this, so badly, that the prospect of being a mother of two instead of one, caught her off guard. But she did want them. Both of them.

He looks at her bump, and tentatively looks back at her. “There’s two?”

It’s funny that for an Oxford education psychologist, he’s been reduced to simple words. In response, she takes his hand and puts it on her stomach. It’s hard and soft at the same time. Her eyes are full of life, and he suddenly lost all ability to speak. He’s never seen her look more beautiful, and it completely takes his breath away. The smile on her lips overwhelms him, and the desire to kiss her is interrupted by his cell phone ringing. He begrudgingly answers it, and she watches his lip curl in aggravation as Diana Fowleys voice vibrates through the phone.

When he hangs up, she knows whatever magical moment between them is over. “I’m sorry, that was... I have to go.”

She can only nod. The second he’s gone, she throws up again, and she isn’t sure if it’s because of the babies or her. The soup gets cold on her countertop... uneaten.

xxxx

By twelve weeks, nothing in her closet fits. The small bump has grown significantly and she truly cannot hide it under her blazers. Camouflaging is something of the past, and when she meets him in the bullpen, his eyes go right to her belly. “Um...”

She shoots him a look, and he shuts up. He isn’t the only one whose noticed and she’s been getting side eyes and glances all day. Her day hasn’t been pleasant, and she is over doing background checks. He flings a pencil at her, while she twirls the cord of the phone around her finger. She smirks, and when she finally hangs up he’s rolled his chair next to her. “Lunch?”

“Only if you’re buying,” she says, sincerely.

“Deal. Get your coat.”

It’s cold for December, especially for DC, but the diner is warm and familiar. This time she doesn’t opt for her regular salad with dressing on the side, but a cheese burger and all the fixings and a side order of French fries.

He looks at her, incredulously but she just shrugs. There’s really no denying the paternity, she thinks and quirks a grin at him. “So,” she begins, when they are finally alone. “I have a ultrasound on Tuesday and...”

“Is it okay if I come?” He cuts in, as she sips her coke. She can tell he’s nervous, and it’s endearing. “Of course,” she says, easily. They are his too. “I’m going to tell my mom this weekend.” She’s out of the first trimester and she can officially enjoy her pregnancy. The threat of miscarriage is over, however the fact that she will most likely deliver early, adds another layer of stress. Not that she’d tell him. “Considering all of the Hoover Building knows, it seems fair.”

He chuffs a laugh. “The amount of looks...”

“Your fault, Mulder,” she cuts him off with a grin, and tilts her chin. “Your virility managed to give me twins.”

He looks at her, and can almost picture them. A boy and girl, or even two girls. Any progeny look remarkably like her, for some reason, and it gives him an overwhelming sense of pride. When he said he’d do anything for her, he truly meant it. “You okay?” She reaches and touches his hand. A gentle squeeze, just to reassure him that she’s here, grounding him.

“I’m good,” he says, meaning it. “I’m good.”

xxxx

She isn’t good when she sees blood. No, she’s terrified, and calls 911 before passing out. At 26 weeks, she has a partial placenta abruption. She could have lost them, and she’s beyond lucky that she hadn’t.

She thinks she’s running out of miracles. When she sees him standing in the doorway of her hospital room out of breath, his clothes wet from the rain, and his eyes full of fear she tries to comfort him.

“We’re okay,” she says gently, as he takes in the fetal monitor strapped to her stomach and machines humming behind her.

“Jesus, Scully,” he says, crossing the room to her bedside. He eases himself next to her, and kisses her forehead. “If I lost...”

You.

Them.

It’s left unspoken between them, but she knows. “I’m fine. We’re okay.”

He puts his palm on her belly, and feels then beneath his fingers. Active. Alive. “I’m out of commission though. Mandatory medical leave. Bed rest for the foreseeable future.” She needed to get to 34 weeks.

He kisses her knuckles. “Anything you need. I’m here.”

xxxx

After she’s discharged, he lives up to his promise. He doesn’t leave her side, and essentially moved in; sleeping on her couch.

At thirty weeks, as big as a house, and clad in a bathrobe that barely fits, when he kisses her.

It takes her breath away, and she pulls away, grinning.

They were in the middle of arguing over paint colors. She wanted yellow, he wanted green. They still didn’t know the sex but somehow he ended up silencing her with a kiss. It was everything she could have hoped for, and nothing like she expected. The fervor in which they came together was long overdue.

She feels shy, like a teenage girl and bites her lower lip. “Whatever color you want,” she finally says, and he looks at her.

“I find myself thinking of yellow now.”

The paint they end up choosing is called golden hour.

xxxx

Her labor and delivery is hard, taxing and exhausting. She almost thought she couldn’t do it, and begged for it to stop. The pain was too much and she was entirely spent, as she had spent the last four hours pushing.

“Dana, you can do this.”

“It hurts,” she mumbled weakly, browbeaten from each contraction. “I can’t.”

“You can,” he said, wiping the sweat off her forehead. “I believe in you.”

Thirty minutes later, they were parents. They were someone’s mother. Someone’s father. It was surreal when they were finally placed in her arms. Healthy, full term twins were rarity.

“Hi,” she says, looking between the two bundles. Her daughter, Hannah on her left, and her son, William was on her right. It felt like it wasn’t actually real, too good to be true, and yet the twelve pounds of baby in her arms proved otherwise.

“Scully, we’re in for it.”

She looked up at him, and smiled. “We most definitely are.”

“Double trouble.”

“Mulder, they are hours old, give them some time...”

He laughs, and touches William’s cheek. “They are perfect.”

“I can’t disagree,” she says softly, and looks up at him. “Thank you.”

“You did all the hard work, Scully.”

She shakes her head. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

He kisses her, really kisses her, as the twins sleep soundly in her arms and it’s as close to perfection as she’ll ever be.

His face, lingers inches close to hers, and she smiles. “I love you, Dana Katherine Scully.”

Her breath hitches. She doesn’t question it, because she knows. This isn’t just because of the babies, this is something they’ve denied to one another for far too long. “I know,” she says, the words are on the tip of her tongue. “I love you too.”

Six years later they can finally admit a truth they’ve known for some time. He found his truth in her, and she in him. It just took a while.


	26. Quarantine Conversations

They’d spent years in isolation, so the mandated quarantine wasn’t difficult for either of them. Except, now they had to contend with a very exuberant toddler and morose nineteen year old. Two very different ends of the spectrum and it was exhausting. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so tired, and it wasn’t even noon yet.

“It’s quiet,” he said, slipping his arms around her waist as she made another pot of coffee. “Too quiet, actually.”

“Jackson took Lily for a walk,” she said, wiggling out of his grasp. “Just around the property. They both have a case of cabin fever setting in.”

“How are you doing?” She wants to be helping. She wants to be at the hospital, saving lives, but she isn’t and feels remarkably guilty about it. She loves him for asking her, though. He knows her too well.

“I’m getting slightly stir crazy myself. This is drastically different from the time you and I spent together in isolation.”

He smirks, remembering. “Two kids, in a unremarkable farm house in the middle of nowhere is definitely different,” he concedes. “But, we are still relatively young, healthy and incredibly lucky.”

She knows this, and does not for one second take it for granted. She hears the door open, and the sounds of Lily laughing permeate the air. Once they enter the kitchen, she sees that Lily is covered head to toe in mud. “Uh, she fell in the pond, trying to reach for one of the ducks,” Jackson explains, setting her on the floor.

Mulder laughs, and picks her up. “Lil, how many times have I told you to be careful and that the ducks don’t want to play.”

The pond behind their house was shallow and full of ducks, only because Mulder decided to feed them. “Time for a bath, kid.”

“No bath,” she says resolutely, as he heads out of the kitchen.

“You sound exactly like your mother.”

She shakes her head as the coffee gurgles behind her. “Dana?”

“Hm?”

“In all serious, how much longer do you think this will last?” Jackson heads for the cabinet and pulls down two mugs.

“To be honest, I don’t know.” Pandemics run on their own time tables, until someone creates a vaccine or it wears itself out. “It could be a few more weeks of this, at least.”

He groans, “Really?”

“Well, your dad already has provisions ready, so we are good for a while.” He raises an eyebrow, “This shouldn’t be surprising, he’s been prepping since 2012, Jackson.”

They have enough rice and toilet paper to last until 2025.

Jackson laughs, “Has he always been so paranoid?”

She hands him a mug, and sits down at the table. “As long as I’ve known him.”

He nods, and sits across from her. He looks so much like Mulder, when he furrows his brow. “What were the two of you like back then?”

He’s never asked questions about their past, and his willingness to talk about it reminds her there is so much he still doesn’t know. The history between her and Mulder is as complicated as tree roots. “What do you want to know?”

She’d tell him anything. “I know you were both on the x-files, and what I’ve gleaned from the internet you’ve had a rather interesting career. So, I guess whatever you want to tell me.”

So, she talks. She tells him of their first meeting, of her abduction, and cancer. She talks about going to Africa for him, and him going to Antarctica for her. Jackson just listens intently, processing as much as she gives him, which is a lot. When she’s done, he looks shocked.

She’s lived more lives than most people. He doesn’t ask about his adoption, that’s a wound that is still deep. “That’s not even all of it,” Mulder cuts in, catching the tail end of the conversation. “That’s only what happened to her.”

“Why didn’t you both just quit?”

The question takes both of them by surprise. “I think, at least for me, I wanted justice. I wanted the truth,” she answers, honestly. He nods. “We both wanted the truth.”

The truth, at the end of the day, was all they had. “Was it worth it?”

“Yes,” they say in unison.

“No question,” Mulder says looking at her.

“I think that we don’t ever get the answers we want, but we get the answers we need.”

Jackson looks between the two of them, and grins. They really are quite the pair. He knew growing up that his adoptive parents loved him, but they didn’t have the same kind of love his birth parents had for one another. This, he saw, was real love. He could only hope to be so lucky one day.

“Since you’ve told me it’s been 28 years, why do you still call one another Mulder and Scully?”

He makes a face, “I’ve always hated my first name, and I can’t speak for Scully but in the beginning it was about mutual respect, at least for me.”

“It’s just something we’ve always done,” she shrugs. “Fox and Dana are…” she crinkles her nose. “Yeah that’s strange. I don’t even think we used our given names in our wedding vows.”

Jackson laughs, “That’s definitely weird.”

“Your lucky your name was William,” Mulder chimes in.

“His middle name was Fox.”

“You never told me that.”

“You never asked, and when I was filling out the birth certificate I was most likely still high on pain medicine.”

“Did she tell you about when you were born? Now that’s a story.”

“Mulder, let’s not traumatize him.”

“It was definitely dramatic, kid.”

Now he’s listening. Lily is in the other room, sound asleep, while he listens to the two of them regale how he came into the world. He had no idea. “So, you rented a helicopter?”

“Scully, you lost a lot of blood. I had to carry you and William. You kept drifting in and out of consciousness while I held onto him while Monica stayed with you in the back.”

“I charged it to the FBI,” he laughs. “Technically it’s their fault you had to go to Georgia in the first place.”

“True.”

They spend most of the afternoon talking, and he learns so much about his birth parents, that he’s actually grateful for the quarantine. Maybe it’s exactly what they all needed.


End file.
